


Trilogy

by Jenny_Elson5



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bonding, Family, Illness of main character, Kidnapping, M/M, Sarek singing, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 76,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenny_Elson5/pseuds/Jenny_Elson5
Summary: A story of friendship turning to love but still being big enough to include others. Contains main character illness, bonding, baddies, angst, stress, love, joy





	1. The Beginning

Captain James T Kirk restlessly paced the bridge of the “U.S.S. Enterprise”, unable to settle. Fortunately there was nothing much doing. Even his bridge-crew was bored. He could sense it in the atmosphere. Only his First Officer Spock seemed to be gainfully employed, his eyes glued to his scanner. Probably computing the square root of psi, Kirk told himself, laughing silently. He sobered abruptly, remembering that Spock was the cause of his restlessness, and he guessed that the Vulcan First officer was well aware of the fact. That was why he was fully absorbed in work that was not really there.

He stuck it out for as long as he could, then decided to make himself scarce. “Mr. Spock, take the con,” he ordered crisply. “I’ll be in my office if I’m needed.”

For once, his office and the mound of paperwork accumulated from the day before seemed like a haven. He dismissed his yeoman, needing badly to be alone, then put his signature to some quarterly reports, reading them without real assimilation.

Damn ! No way could he concentrate! With a disgusted sigh, he slammed down his stylus as the events of the previous evening crowded out the more legitimate thoughts of his working day. Christ Almighty, how had it happened? In the cold, harsh light of the simulated day, it all seemed so incredible! So …. Unreal!

He had certainly never intended for the evening to end in the way it did. 

He had made love to another man! 

Worse, he had enjoyed it, every single god damned second of it. Nothing had been further from his mind when he had ventured into Spock’s quarters. He had a headache and would have not ha ve gone at all but for the chess problem which had been defying a solution for the past few days.

He and Spock enjoyed a close relationship, he reflected warmly. In fact, it was the closest relationship he’d had in his entire life, despite its inauspicious beginnings. This, he now knew was due to Spock’s natural shyness and reserve, and the painful difficulties he’d had then in social communication, not helped by Kirk himself, all too aware of his own position. ‘The loneliness of Command,’ they called it, and he had experienced it with a vengeance during the early days of his captaincy.

His friendship with Spock had taken time to establish itself – something unusual for Kirk who tended to be more impulsive. Years of unsettled life had taught him to take and offer friendship when and where he could, no matter how brief the duration, or how great the heartbreak at it’s inevitable end. Always striving for “oneness” but never quite attaining it: a longing unfulfilled.

Perhaps because of this his friendship with Spock never seemed to awe him, for it was durable, a partnership of sharing, and each one fulfilling an urgent need to be loved.. With the tense, emotive elements of his more usual relationship removed, he had been able to relax, no longer fearful of that happiness being snatched away by some capricious whim of Starfleet. Never before had he enjoyed a friendship which contained so many qualities.

From the outset, he had been aware of Spock’s intense sexual magnetism – although he was sure Spock himself had no conception of it.

Kirk also guessed that a good part of the initial process of their friendship had been an overt sexual attraction which neither of them had been aware of.

He had never been sexually attracted to a man before, and had always prided himself in his masculinity and his reputation of a Casanova. This was the popular image of a Starship Commander often exploited by the mass media, and one he had never discouraged. It fitted in well with his own self-image.  
Yet sometimes, he was fearful of his feelings toward the Vulcan, knowing to well it was that they went beyond the bounds of pure friendship.

Small things would trigger it off. Spock’s hand on his shoulder; a glance only he could interpret; a brief smile. Again and again, he had experienced the melting warmth of love and desire. Yet afterwards, he always suffered the pangs of guilt spurred on by his ego. James T – for Tomcat Kirk! And he had, no matter how briefly, longed to hold another man in his arms!

Until last night he had kept his emotions well under control, not daring to allow his latent longings to surface. Was that not the difference between normality and aberration? Did not every man at some stage of his life experience a brief attraction towards another of the same gender? A stage … a phase … part of the process of settling down after years of upheaval. Hero-worship, maybe. Even plain damn mystique.

Answers! They all roamed restlessly around his mind, seeking realisation.

Spock had not been expecting him, perhaps because he had been complaining of a headache and had announced his intention of an early night. He really had, too, but inspiration on the chess problem had niggled him into going next door to Spock’s quarters. Spock had been meditating, dressed now in the familiar Vulcan kimono and was seated in front of the fire-pot, completely relaxed. 

Kirk made a move to depart, not wanting to disturb him, but Spock called him back.

“Please do not go, Jim. You know I always welcome your company.”

He turned back. “One day you will teach me the art of meditation.”

“I would be pleased to. You would find it most beneficial, and not at all hard to do.”

“Well, I’ll take you up on it sometime, but not tonight. I still have that headache and I’ve found a solution to our chess problem.”

Amusement danced in Spock’s eyes – something rarely seen. “I would be most interested to see it,” he said, gesturing towards the game, untouched since the last time they had played.

Kirk paused for effect, then made his move with a flourish and a victorious “ta da!” Spock counter moved, and Kirk checked him, grinning broadly.

“That was not logical, Jim!”

“Worked though!”

Spock placed the pieces back to where they had been before, and demonstrated his own move. 

“That,” he pronounced solemnly, “would have been a more orthodox and logical move.”

“Mine achieved the same purpose. I still checked you!”

“But it still wasn’t logical!”

Kirk laughed, realizing that Spock was teasing him now.

“Guess I’ll leave you to work it out. I’m gonna take a headache pill, climb into my pit and sleep it off.”  
Spock’s eyes filled with genuine concern.

“Jim, with all due respect for McCoy’s potions, drugs are not the solution to tension headaches.”

“So who’s tense?”  
“You are. You always are during periods of routine work.”

Spock’s perception never ceased to amaze him. But amazement was edged out by the clog dancers in his skull.

“Look, I have a headache which I am not going to suffer in silence, so unless you have a better solution?”

“I could relax you, Jim. A simple mind-touch.” 

“But you don’t like doing that! I am not letting you do it for something so trivial as a headache!”

“Please let me help you. I … wish it …”

Kirk relented. He knew he had nothing to fear. Spock had been in his mind before, and it had been a soothing experience. Besides, he did not want to hurt the Vulcan by refusing something he had freely offered.

“Lie down on the bed,” Spock instructed. “All I will do is touch your forehead. There will be no thought transference.”

The mind-touch was brief: thirty second at the most, during which time Kirk felt a great warmth flood into his mind, which quickly extinguished the pain. Relaxed and much happier, he sat up.

“Better now?”

“Completely. Thank you, Spock.”

Briefly, Spock smiled. “My pleasure,” he said. “Now, if you would like to stay, I have received a new music cassette from my Mother. I think you will enjoy it. I also have good prepared.”

“My pleasure,” Kirk agreed, settling down luxuriously on the floor, thinking how good it was to be so relaxed in Spock’s quarters. Like home … my second home…

The atmosphere that evening was somehow different; loving, beautiful, and charged with a strange excitement elusively difficult to pinpoint. Kirk tingled with it, savouring every single moment, fearful it would disappear before he could capture the essence of it.

They ate in companionable silence, Spock breaking it eventually to remark that the food was called “Kadav” and that it had once been eaten traditionally during the “God Feast” on Pre-Reform Vulcan.

“Our ancients called it ‘The Food of love’” he said quietly, and Kirk smiled.

“Don’t ever tell me you are unromantic again!”

“I was merely reporting a fact.”

“It wasn’t what you said, but the way you said it!”

Spock was now obviously embarrassed by the gentle teasing, so Kirk did not press further. When they had finished, Spock cleared the dishes – tidy beast that he was – then put the music cassette into the player. The music was relaxing. Impulsively, Kirk took Spock’s hand into his, unable to stop himself.

“I love you so much, Spock.”

Shocked, Spock draw back, spoiling the moment.

“No, Jim! Please …”

It was fear, Kirk realized with a sudden jolt, fear of emotion, of revelation, of love. Gently, he pulled the Vulcan back toward him, this time putting his arm around Spock’s shoulder.

“Don’t be afraid. Not of me.”

“Love is … illogical.”

“Love IS. It exists, and there is nothing to fear.”

Spock was trembling. “My control …”

“We are alone. Besides, what harm if two people admit love for each other? I won’t ever hurt you. You are the last person in the entire galaxy I’d ever want to hurt.”

At last, Spock relaxed. Very gently, for fear of alarming him again, Kirk bent over and kissed him. This time, he did not withdraw but instead came into Kirk’s arms.

“Teach me to … love.”

Kirk smiled. “I think you already know.”

“But I do not know how to express my knowledge.”

Kirk kissed him again, this time lingering over it, no longer afraid that Spock would take flight like a frightened bird. He came out of the clinch at last, stroking Spock’s hair that was surprisingly silky.

“Believe me, you express your knowledge so well, my friend.”

His hand glided down Spock’s face, lingering here and there to explore. Spock seemed transfixed as though he dared not move. Yet he was relaxed now, obviously enjoying the new sensations. Fingers probing downwards towards the groin, Kirk felt the first brief shock of wonderment as he made contact with the firm, impressive penis. Spock’s arousal caused his own penis to press hard against his clothes.

Realizing that the Vulcan would have to be guided through the art of love-making, he deftly undid his pants, took Spock’s hand and placed it firmly over his groin, gently indicating what needed to be done by demonstrating on Spock’s own organ.

Expertly, he worked on Spock until the Vulcan’s muscles tightened, and he came with a long, shuddering sigh, with semen spilling over. It was that, rather than Spock’s distracted attention that made him reach his own climax.

Erotic, stimulating, gorgeous …

“I … I must apologise …”

Kirk shook his head, incredulously. “WHAT?”

“I lost control. That was unforgiveable of me …”

“Spock, you enjoyed it as much as I did!”

“Yes. It has never – never happened to me before,” Spock agreed miserably.

Kirk laughed kindly. “Well, I guess it’s the first for me too, and I’m sure not complaining. I rejoice in your … er ... lack of control. Please relax. Don’t spoil the afterglow.”  
Then, they relaxed in each other’s arms, all the tension smoothed away from Spock’s face. Soon, they slept, and neither of them awoke until the ship’s status was returned to day.


	2. Doubts

Commander Spock was having difficulty in hiding his concentration. Not that there was much to concentrate on. The space through which they were travelling was burned out, the result of a super-nova 25,000 years ago. Even so, he usually had something to draw his attention, even if it was solving a complex mathematical problem. The state of boredom was not in his book.

He did have other work to do. Work of a more scientific nature, away from the bridge. But Jim had given him the con, and he was not in the habit of handing over command once it had been given to him. Fidgeting ever-so-slightly, he glanced at the chronometer. Ten point five minutes before the end of his shift. Then, he could legitimately leave the bridge.

//If the square root of Psi…\\\

//Last night I lost control. Last night, I slept in Jim’s arms as I have longed to do. Now, I cannot control my Vulcan emotions, and the feelings of great happiness. I am less than Vulcan If the square root of Psi …\\\ But I AM happy!\\\

//Do I not owe the Human part of myself something? Yet the Vulcan in me is prominent. I made it so. I want to be that way … that climatic experience! The joy of sharing! Beautiful .. Sublime. I love you, Jim Kirk. I have always loved you, although I did not know the meaning of that emotion. You give me so much! Teach me things I have long denied myself. I love you, Jim! I love you .. love you …\\\

//But I lost control. I am less than a Vulcan!\\\

“Mr Spock?”

Sulu’s voice cut into his thoughts. He had not heard the new shift come on duty. There was a hint of amusement on Sulu’s face, having found the First Office day dreaming.

“You have the con, Mr Sulu!” he ordered abruptly. “Status static. Maintain present speed and heading. Mr Scott is the senior officer on duty.”

“Aye Aye, Sir.”

He was thankful to get off the bridge, but for once, another problem presented itself when he entered his own quarters. Clearly, he was in no mood to pursue his scientific studies. What he required, he finally decided was a short, sharp shock. And because he detested it, and was not expert with it, and found it most uninviting, he decided to go for a swim.

He was relieved to find the pool empty. Most of the crew enjoyed the sport he dislike, and were amused by his inexperience. Quickly he undressed, put on his swimming shorts and, instead of following his usually practice of slowly lowering himself into the water, he recklessly dived in in what he knew was called a “belly flop.” And it hurt, taking the breath away, immediately followed by a cramp in his right leg.

He fought desperately to keep a float and control the pain, choking on the chlorinated water as he fought for breath, his hands grasping fruitlessly at the bars at the edge of the pool.

Arms suddenly reach out, tucking themselves neatly under his own. A hand held his face above the water, and he felt himself being towed towards the side of the pool. Finally, he was dragged out unceremoniously.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” came the familiar voice of Doctor McCoy.

“Swimming?” Spock suggested between heaves and coughs. McCoy chuckled wryly.

“Looked more like an attempt to drown yourself!”

“I had a cramp.” He was more in control of himself now. His heart was no longer thumping against his chest.

“Never thought I’d see the day you would panic!”

“I did not panic …”

“Then you’re a good actor, Spock, ‘cos it sure looked like that to me!” And it was a good job I happened by! How the hell would I explain one drowned Vulcan? God only knows!”

Spock started to his feet. For some reason, McCoy’s needling was getting to him, and, unusually, could think of no fast answer. McCoy had, fair and square, caught him – And saved him from drowning too.

“Thank you.” He muttered, accepting a towel McCoy put a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay!”

“Quiet certain, Doctor.”

“Look, why don’t we both dry off, then go back to my place? I have some excellent brandy. I know you enjoy a good brandy.”

“Tolerate, Doctor. There is a difference.”

“Dammit, you pointy-eared hobgoblin! I’m trying to be friendly!”

Was that desperation in McCoy’s voice? There was a quality in it he recognised as familiar, but it remained elusive. Normally, he would have turned down the offer. Instead, he nodded.

“I appreciate your friendship,” he said, perhaps too formally. It was not an admission he made freely to McCoy. “I also appreciate your offer, which I accept.”

Ten minutes later they entered McCoy’s somewhat untidy quarters. Spock rarely ventured there, as he was rarely invited, mainly because they tended to be aloof to each other. They enjoyed their relationship as it stood.

McCoy’s quarters were .. homely. Perhaps something to do with its untidiness, a trait common too many Terrans. A reminder of the doctor’s past stood on the bedside cabinet, a holo of a young girl, undoubtedly his daughter, reminding Spock that he was not the only one to suffer during earlier years. McCoy never spoke of this failed marriage but on the brief occasions when Spock had entered his mind, he had noted the intense amount of pain and unhappiness.

“Cheers!” McCoy said, breaking into Spock’s thoughts. He cupped the glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid. Unusually, McCoy did not have much to say. He just sat hunched up, gulping his brandy.

“Seen anything of Jim today?”

A hot flush came to Spock’s cheeks. Then he relaxed. The doctor could not know about the night before. What had happened was intensely personal and he did not want to share it.

“Jim was on the bridge earlier. Then he went to his office.”

“Lucky you!” McCoy drawled. “Least you saw him.” His voice was tinged with bitterness.

“I’m sorry?”

“Aw hell! Nuthin! Y’know, I used to enjoy his company. Now, I see so little of him. I wish … I wish …Ah, nuthin!”

Suddenly, Spock recognised what was so familiar: terrible, engulfing loneliness. He too had known it – but his had been filled by Jim. Yet in the ending of his loneliness another had been unwittingly created. And Jim was at the centre of it all. Like a lynch-pin, holding together the threads of two lives.  
“I’m sure the captain has been busy, doctor. Otherwise he would not have ignored your company.”  
How could he begin to help such pain? He had never mastered the art of reassurance.

“There is other work..” he offered “Paperwork … reports…”

“You seem to live in his pocket! “ At least I’ve never been so demanding on his time!”

Again, the hot flush to his cheeks, the enforced relaxation.

“I’m sure that if you mentioned it, Jim would be most willing …”

“Yeah! That’s just about the size of it! Always me who does the askin’! Nobody volunteers! Maybe I got BO, and nobody told me! Do I smell, Spock?”

“Bones, please! Don’t do this!”

The use of his nickname seemed to snap him out of his mood. He looked up, his blue eyes tired.

“I’m sorry.” He apologise gruffly. “I didn’t mean to sound off at you like that. Must be this damned assignment. Boredom settling in. Gives you too much time to think, and thinkin’ gives you a pain in the ass, not to mentioned the heart. More brandy? Your … er.. tolerance.. seems to be bearing up!”

Spock accepted the offer. Tonight, he realised, he would have to spare the time for McCoy.

Later … much later .. he tapped quietly on Kirk’s door, which opened up to him. Jim was lying on his bed, reading. Spock did not even have the time to catch a glimpse of the title before the reader was snapped off.

“Where have you been?”

“With McCoy.”

“Why? You sick?”

“No. He invited me to his quarters.”

Jim chuckled. “And you accepted? What did you fight about?”

“We were not fighting.” Jim was in a strange mood. “He was lonely. And he said he had not seen you today.”

“Jesus! I can’t live in his bloody pockets!”

“That is precisely what he said we were doing!”

Again, that chuckle. Was it slightly sarcastic? “Did he now? Was that an observation or a good guess?”

Something was wrong. Jim was not usually like this. He tried again.  
“McCoy was lonely, Jim. He needed to talk. I merely provided him with an ear. He has missed your companionship of late.”

“Yeah. Well maybe I haven’t seen too much of him lately. I’ll go and see him tomorrow.”

“He would appreciate that.”

“Since when have you been McCoy’s champion, Spock? It’s not your most usual role.”

“No, it is yours. But you seem to have relinquished it.”

“Aw, shit, to hell with it! Look Spock, I’m tired, okay? I’ve said I’ll see him tomorrow and I will. But right now I want to curl up with my book until I fall asleep.”

Rejection. Deep hurt. His heart contracted so painfully he almost winced … but not quite.

“Goodnight, sir.” He said coldly.

Then he turned and left.

Kirk hated himself as he watched Spock leave, and the pain he felt was probably as great as his friend’s. But he knew he must think this … thing… through before he committed himself further.  
He wanted to commit himself. That was the most confusing thing. It scared him witless, even enough to hurt Spock deeply. There was also an element of resentment too, yet without direction. What had happened had been mutual. A beautiful, sharing moment. There could be no resentment against Spock. Rather, it was something inside of him which loved Spock so much but had turned him against his own principals, hurting his pride and masculinity.

He had argued …. endlessly … that his masculinity had not suffered. Why should it? After all? He was not a different person. Still James T-for-Tomcat-Kirk!

As an experiment, he tried to fantasise, but that failed to arouse him. Yet, whenever he thought of his closeness to Spock, and the reality of their night together, he felt a melting warmth and a sense of arousal he had never experienced before.

Turning restlessly, he closed his eyes, waiting for sleep that was a long time coming.

He did visit McCoy that morning. He was going to anyway because he was genuinely feeling sorry about neglecting his friend. He went earlier than he intended. After his bad night, he was out of temper and had yet another headache.

McCoy reluctantly doled out two pills, which Kirk suspected were tranquilizers. He swallowed them anyway, not really caring so long as they stifled the clog-dancers inside his skull.

“Maybe I should examine you.” McCoy said. “You’ve had too many headaches lately.”

“Don’t fuss! I’m okay.”

“Snappy with it! What’s bugging you?”

“Bones, need you interrogate me every time I have a headache?”

The doctor shrugged. “My job is to monitor your physical and mental welfare. You aint happy. It’s my duty to find out why.”

Kirk sighed. He had not exactly meant to visit Bones in this way. The doctor was merely irritating him now.   
“Can you wonder I’m unhappy? The Enterprise’ has been tied up here for a few days. It’s boring. I hate it!”

“Aw, common, Jim. We’ve had assignments like this before! Anyway, in three more days we can live it up on Starbase 16. There has to be something else.”

“Well there isn’t!” he snapped. “Now you’ll have to excuse me. I have work to do.”

“Jim …” McCoy began to protect, but Kirk marched away before he could utter another word.

It was all going wrong! One single night of tenderness and suddenly everything was awry and off-key. He knew the fault lay within him, but he had no idea how to correct it.

In the privacy of the turbo-lift, he rested his head against the cool wall. Dammit! That was no way to treat McCoy! Was not how he had planned to make amends. Just how he had never meant to hurt Spock the night before.

The lift doors opened and a crewman eyed him curiously. “Take the next one, Ensign!” he ordered curtly, changing his mind about stepping off. He then reassigned the lift back to Sickbay.

When he reached McCoy’s office, someone else had claimed the doctor’s attention and the “Engaged” sign was lit up. He paced restlessly. Five minutes … ten … A Nurse asked if she could help, but he shook his head. After another few minutes, two young ensigns emerged from the office. Kirk only knew them vaguely as they were engineers under Scotty’s command but he knew they were one of several couples aboard the Enterprise who lived together quite openly. He had never bothered about that before. What people did in their own time was their business, as long as it did not impinge on the running of his ship. But now, he felt a twist in his gut.

//Christ Almighty! Not like them … Not James T Kirk.//

“Jim, you back already?”

He pushed aside the pangs of guilt for being so prejudiced. He had always fondly believed he was never prejudiced.

“Jim?” McCoy tried again, and he snapped out of it.

“Came back to apologise, Bones. I’m sorry, I should not have spoken to you like that.”

McCoy nodded. “Apology accepted,” he agreed shortly.

“Care to spend this evening with me?”

McCoy’s blue eyes searched his own. Then he shrugged. “Thanks all the same, but /I have some personal tapes I must get down to night or they won’t catch the interstellar mail at Starbase 16.” 

Now Bones was being awkward, and he could hardly blame him.

“Well, the invite stands.” He capitulated with a weary smile. “You know where I am if you change your mind. Gotta go now.”

As if defiantly, he sauntered jauntily onto the turbo-lift and ordered directly to the bridge. He was pleased that Spock was not there. Pleased and disappointed. Easing himself into the com-chair he listened half-heartedly to the bridge-crew reports.

He somehow managed to avoid Spock for the rest of that day, although he felt perversely disappointed when the Vulcan did not come to his quarters that evening. Neither did Bones, and the long night stretched out endlessly. He had known loneliness before, but not like this, for this was of his own making, and he hated all the more because of it.

Rationalisation began to creep in now; a rationalisation he hated because he knew it was a lie. Even so, he was almost desperate to accept it as the truth, needing something in which to bury his own fears. Selfishness was an ugly trait. And he intensely disliked the ugliness inside of him.

It was perhaps fortunate that the bridge-crew were busier than they had been of late, as the ‘Enterprise’ at last put the dead system behind her and headed at warp four towards Starbase 16. There was mounting excitement in the air now. The entire crew was ready for a break, and the Starbase would definitely provide that. Within twenty-four standard hours the starship was in standard orbit around Starbase 16, and by then Kirk had driven himself so hard that he slept without difficulty.

Next day, he formally handed the ‘Enterprise’ to the commander of the maintenance crew, beamed down briefly to H.Q. to present his reports, then returned to his ship. By then, time had flown alarmingly, and it was 1900hrs before he could go into the Officers Mess for something to eat. Only a sprinkling of crew was around. McCoy and Scotty were arguing heatedly about something, and he joined them.

“Hi, what are you two arguing about?”

“Brothels” Scotty said sourly. “And we were not fighting, just having a slight difference of opinions.”  
“Well, there’s a nice topic of conversation over dinner! Er…anything I can do to help? Although why you were arguing with Scotty beats me! He knows all the best bordellos in the galaxy!”

“Exactly!” McCoy said triumphantly. “Exploitation!”

“WHAT?”

Scotty shook his head. “Pay no heed, Jim! He’s got one of his moralising streaks on him!”  
“So would you be if you’d just spent your entire day out of a well-earned shore leave examining the – er – merchandise.”

“So what’s your beef then? If you’ve spent a whole day looking them over…”

“As in medical!”

“Oh”

“I told’em I didn’t want to be involved. But they need an annual licence by an independent medical officer, and I just happened to be handy.”

“So now I know the girls in Lucifer’s Bar are clean and healthy that’s where I’m spending the night.”

“Scotty, think of the girls! They are people.”

“Fiddlesticks! T’was their own personal choice!”

“Haven’t you ever heard of pimps? …”

“Shaddup!” Kirk shouted good humouredly. “Scotty, don’t antagonize him for God’s sake! And Bones, excellent though your concerns may be, you won’t alter a thing. The oldest profession in the universe isn’t likely to stop because you rage about exploitation like some ancient Bible thumper!”

“Huh!” McCoy commented sourly, and then thankfully clammed up.

“Huh!” Echoed Scotty, standing up. “I’ll be awa’ to my ablutions now. Jim, of ye want tae join me, I’ll be in Lucifer’s Bar by 2200 hours, enjoying …his…clean girls!”

“Er…thanks, Scotty. Have a good time.”

He watched the engineer depart, smiling after him affectionately. Somethings never changed. Like Scotty, hell raiser, womanisers, workhorse, loyalist, and the softest touch in the fleet if he wanted to be.

“You’re not going with, Jim?” McCoy snapped.

“Well, I’ve no other plans. And from what I remember of Lucifer’s Bar … Come to think of it, Bones you were with me that particular night!”

McCoy blushed. “You must have a faulty memory, Jim!”

Kirk shook his head, enjoying himself. “Oh no! I remember the occasion quite clearly. You went off with that little red-head.”

McCoy, obviously embarrassed now, scrapped back his chair and stood up.

“Yes …well…Guess I’ll be off now. G’night, Jim.”

“G’night, Bones.”

As soon as McCoy had gone, Kirk sobered. Now he was alone in the Mess, usually well populated but now almost echoed with emptiness.

There would be Spock, he guessed: waiting as he must have been for the last three days for kirk to come to him. Lonely, in need of comfort, in need of explanation.

Within a few minutes he was tapping on Spock’s door, unsure of what to say. He was still in a hopeless muddle emotionally, and angry with himself. Still wanting and loving Spock so much, but afraid to confess the fact now, even to himself.

The door yielded and he stepped inside. The interior was dark, illuminated only by the fire-pot. Spock was seated on the floor in front of it in a meditation pose, and did not bother to bring himself out of it. Kirk moved closer.

“Spock…?”

No answer. He tried again, placing a hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder. “Spock…”

“Please leave. Don’t touch me!”

The voice was cold, Kirk shuddered.

“I came to talk.”

“Why? You have successfully avoided me for three days.”

“I can explain…”

“I would be most interested to hear it. I find the human trait of using others most intriguing.”

Pain and guilt stabbed at him. Sudden anger bubbled over him, misdirecting it at Spock.  
“Don’t you think you should rephrase that, Spock? It must be a Vulcan trait! You used me! All that goddamed talk of mind-meld to cure my headache. All those lies about having no link! You wanted to fuck me. You placed that thought in my mind. You made me do exactly what you wanted!”

“No, Jim! No!”

“You initiated the happening. You used my mind to let it happen!”

There was an awful silence which seemed it would stretch into infinity. Kirk was shaking as he watched Spocks eyes close to slits.

“Get out! You are invading my space!”

“No! Wait!”  
“Get out! Otherwise I may harm you!”

Spock’s tone left no room for doubt. And he knew that all the apologies in the universe would make no difference now. In his own confusion he had hurt Spock so intolerably. All those years of their friendship were lost in one crazy moment.

Perhaps forever…

Loss ...loneliness…indescribable self-hatred.

Choking with emotion, Kirk stumbled out of Spock’s quarters.

“Jim! Glad ye could make it!”

In the soft, debauched glow of Lucifer’s Bar, Scotty waved amiable to Kirk across the room. The engineer had an arm around a blonde of underterminate age. He was obviously pleasantly drunk. As Kirk began to move across to him, an Andorian attached herself to his arm but he shrugged her off.

“Get lost!”  
“Suit yourself!” she snapped, and sauntered away to catch the next mug to walk through the door. At the bar, he asked for a full bottle of scotch.

//Get pissed…stoned…forget…//

“Want an introduction, Jim?” Scotty offered as Kirk downed his first glass.

“No thanks,” he declined morosely.

“There’s a good wee lassie over there.”

“I said no, dammit!”

Suddenly, he realised he was shouting and drawing attention to himself. “Sorry,” he apologise. “Thin I’ll just get drunk for now.”

“Sure you’re okay, Jim?” Scotty asked anxiously, but he just shrugged.

“Why not?” he snapped irritably and Scotty gave up, wandering away.

Settling down he began to drink seriously, not daring to think of Spock. Soon the hurtful edges of his memory were smoothed away by the false warmth of the scotch. And he was more than a little “tight” by now. Draining the bottle he ordered another one and poured out a good measure.

 

Time lost meaning. The noise of the bar faded out of existence as the alcohol clouded him. Yet another bottle was half consumed when a harsh brunette sidled up to him and began to paw at him. He pushed her away.

“Go away!”

“Aw, common!”

“Get lost!”

He pushed her again, this time harder than he meant to. The girl went sprawling on the grubby floor, and suddenly pandemonium broke out as the girl screamed abuse at him. His fumbling, drunken attempt to quieten her and help her up led to more disaster when his legs swayed and he fell on top of her.

She fought like a wildcat, scratching, biting, and kicking. Seconds later someone diver on top of him, then others joined in the fray. He was in no condition to defend himself. He manged to dodge one hefty blow, only to come into contact with another, and as a heavy boot made contact with his ribs, mercifully oblivion descended.

The strident beep of the intercom jolted Spock almost painfully from his desperate and futile attempts to mediate. Shaking with emotion he had not been able to control he answered the intercom.  
“Spock!” he barked shortly.

“McCoy here. We have trouble! Meet me in the transport room. I’ll explain there…”

“Doctor, what…?”

“Hell, Spock! Just get there!”

Three minutes later Spock walked into the transporter room. McCoy was already waiting, his medikit slung over his shoulder. He looked genuinely worried.

“It’s Jim. Some kinda trouble in a bar.”

“Trouble?”

“He got drunk. Had a fight. Well? Are you coming with me or not?”

“What the Captain does in his own time is no concern of mine.”

“WHAT? Aw, to hell with you then!” I’ll manage alone!”

Numbed, Spock watched McCoy set the controls of the transporter to auto, and then climbed onto the podium. He almost turned away, but the inner voice of reason cautioned him to go with McCoy. Jim was in trouble, and over and above all personal considerations, he was the captain of the ‘Enterprise’. Deeply troubled he stepped onto the pad beside McCoy.

The area to where they beamed down was cheap and tawdry. Just outside the dubious establishment called ‘Lucifer’s Bar’. Jim lay spread-eagled on dirty street. Two burly Starfleet Guards were standing over him.

Scotty hailed them, and McCoy bent down to tend to Jim. Spock joined the engineer.

“What happened, Mr Scott?”

“I’m nae sure. I was ..er.. otherwise engaged.”

“Engaged?”

“W’ a lassie, for God’s sake! By the time I’d disentangled myself, Jim was out could and being hauled awa’ by those big brutes. Seems he got piss…drunk, and clipped one o’ those lassies across the ear.”

“Jim..?”

“Aye. And what’s more, the two guards nearly carted themselves and him off to the cooler for the night…”

“Regulations do state…”

“You cool bastard! To hell with regulations! He’s your friend, dammit. You can pull rank more than me or Leonard. I’ve been in the cooler plenty. A reputation like mine thrives on it. But no’ Jim. The least ye can do is get him off the hook!”

After a two-second silence, Spock nodded. Without a further word to Scotty, he walked across to the knot of people surrounding Jim, fighting down bleakness and despair. He turned to the Senior Security Officer.

“Lieutenant, I am Commander Spock of the USS Enterprise. And I have the authority to be given custody of your prisoner.”

“Security code number…”

“I am well aware of regulations, Lieutenant. This man is injured and is entitled to medical attention. I will make certain he attends a disciplinary hearing at H.Q. tomorrow, if his condition allows. You are dismissed, Lieutenant. I now accept custody of your prisoner.”

Sulkily, the two guards saluted, and then marched away.

“Are you ready to beam us all aboard, doctor?”

Briefly, McCoy nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get the hell outta this cruddy place.”

By the time Spock, McCoy and Jim had beamed aboard; Jim was beginning to come round. For the first time, Spock ventured to look at him. His face was white, and a bruise stood out lividly on his pale cheek. He moaned with pain and suddenly Spock longed to hold him in his arms. But he did not, as he remembered what had happened earlier.

He turned away, fighting control.

“Help me get him to his quarters, Spock.”

“Not Sickbay?”

“I doubt Jim is going to like himself very much when he wakes up, At least I in his own quarters he can have a good ole hatred of himself in private.”

Between them, they managed the half-conscious captain into his cabin, where they put him to bed. Gently, McCoy removed his shirt. There was livid bruising over his ribs.

“A few cracked ribs and concussion.” McCoy muttered to himself. “And he’s still pissed as a newt. Spock, help me while I treat those ribs. What the hell was he thinking of!”

He was reluctant to stay, still hurting. A hurt difficult to control. Love…resentment. All strangely mixed up, fighting with logic.  
“Spock!”

“Doctor, I have work to do.”

“For god’s sake! It’s Jim laying there, not some stranger. Okay, so he’s got stoned out of his mind in a whore-house, and I don’t like that anymore than you do. There has to be a reason which I can even guess at. Bit right at this moment, all he needs is a bit of T.L.C. … tender loving care. So, if your work is more important, then … just go to hell!”

Shame, added to the resentment. Without a word, Spock assisted McCoy to make Jim more comfortable, putting him in the recovery position. The injured man roused for a brief moment. His eyes met Spock’s, and then he turned away.

“Please go, Spock.”

“Jim….”

He looked at McCoy with a touch of resentment, but the doctor was giving nothing away as he tended to the bruises, spraying them with something from his kit.

“Bones, make him go!” Jim demanded, agitated now. McCoy shrugged, his expression still bland.  
“Spock did you say you have work to do?” he asked, and Spock nodded, numbered with the utter rejection.

“Please let me know if you require further assistance,” he said formally, then forced himself to turn away and walk stiffly from the Captain’s quarters.

Troubled, McCoy watched Spock depart. Something had obviously happened between the two senior officers, and he realised that the captain’s condition was something to do with it all.  
He could only hazard a guess at what happened. Recently, the two of them had become closer together than usual, and their closeness had worried McCoy. Partly, he admitted to himself, because he had been excluded, but mainly because he suspected the nature of their closeness. This had recently changed into something much deeper than either of them had expected: maybe taken them by surprise.

And now, McCoy guessed, they were both suffering from a guilt complex.

“Has Spock gone, Bones?”

“Yeah, he’s gone. Why are you so keen to get rid of him? You two had a row?”

“Something like that.” Jim tried to move, but winced with pain. “I really blew it, didn’t I?”

“You could say that, and I wish to hell I knew why. But not now. How do you feel?”

“Lousy. Like I’ve been through a roller.” He closed his eyes as he clenched his teeth against the pain. McCoy could have given him a hypo but decided against for it now. A little suffering ….  
“Bones, I’m going to throw up…”

“It’s okay, Jim. Don’t worry. Don’t try to fight it.”

“I’m sorry…so sorry…”

There was absolutely nothing McCoy could do but ride out the storm, holding Jim’s head while he vomited. Afterwards he laid him back against the pillows, white and exhausted. Finally, he relented and gave him a hypo.

“Get some sleep, Jim. I’ll clean up. We can talk tomorrow if you want to.”

The hype was already working. Jim’s eyes were closing and he soon drifted into a restive sleep while McCoy cleaned up the mess on the floor, before settling into a chair to keep a lonely vigil.

“Spock, I don’t give a damn about regulations! Jim is not well enough to attend a disciplinary hearing. He’s bruised and sore and he’s worn out having spent half the night vomiting ….”  
“I gave my word …”

“Fuck your blasted word! That’s your bad luck, not mine. If it wasn’t for you he wouldn’t be in this mess anyway! Goddam Vulcan! Blast you for manipulating Jim with your perverted ways; and…”

He stopped his tirade abruptly. He had not meant to hurt Spock, or to sound so bitter.

“Spock, I’m sorry.”

“I understand, Doctor.”

“You don’t. Maybe you can’t. And I AM sorry. Guess I’m worried about Jim.”

“I do share your concern.”

“Sure you do. So just listen and stop shouting your mouth off about promises. Jim is not fit to attend that hearing, and that is a medical opinion. Okay, so he made a damn-fool of himself, but you know as well as I do that it’s just not like him.”

“He did violate regulations. He is now required to account for his unfortunate actions.”

“He’s unfit, Spock. Get that through your thick skill! You attend the hearing. I know enough of Starfleet regulations! That is perfectly in order. And even if you don’t, I will. I have already placed my medical views on tape. At least give them that.”

Spock held his gaze silent.

“Well?” McCoy demanded, and at last Spock nodded.

“There is no need for Jim to attend the hearing in person if he is ill. As the Senior Officer, I will go in person in his stead, both to offer a plea of guilt and my own character defence. Please excuse me. I must prepare for it.”

Thoughtfully, McCoy watched Spock stride towards the turbo lift. At the last minute, he called to him.

“Spock, thanks.”

“He is my friend too. A most special one.”

Almost silently, the elevator doors closed shut. Four hours later, Spock returned to McCoy who had been waiting anxiously. The news was not as bad as he feared.

“Jim has been fined.” Spock told him. “One thousand credits.”

McCoy whistled. “Wow! Good job he can afford that. Anything else?”

“An official warning only. The incident will not be recorded.”

He sighed with relief. At least some people in Starfleet hierarchy had sense enough to realise that a petty misdemeanour was not worth running a career for.

“Care to tell him yourself, Spock?” he offered, but Spock shook his head.  
“I am sure he would prefer it coming from you.”

What had happened between them?

“Sure, I’ll go now. Guess he’s fretting, so the sooner the better.”

When he entered Kirk’s quarters, the Captain was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in hands. He looked drawn and pale.

“Jim, you okay? Have you been throwing up again?”

“No. Seem to have passed now.” He looked up lethargically. “Come to tell me the verdict, Bones?”  
“Seems you got off lightly … If you consider one thousand credits, light. The incident will not even be on your record, provided you stay a good boy. I guess you’ve learned your lesson.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. It was Spock who went down there and spoke up for you.”

“Maybe I’ll write him a thank you note.”

“Don’t be so sarcastic! It’s not like you, just like the whole of this business isn’t. Look, just pay your fine, and then forget about it. Unless you’d care to talk?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll be off. Got work to do.”

He began to walk away, Jim called him back.

“Bones, don’t blame Spock in all of this.”

“All of what?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just don’t blame him.”

“Jim…” he started, then decided it was none of his business. But maybe…? He plunged ahead. 

“Guess you’ll be feeling hungry by tonight. Care to beam down to Starbase 16 for a good old fashioned meal? I know just the right place to make a guy feel important. Waiters and tuxedos. The whole bit.”

“Thanks, but I’m not in the mood.”

“I said forget last night. You need something to take your mind off things. Listen to your Uncle Len for once.”

At least Jim smiled, if only wanly. Satisfied, McCoy nodded.

“Meet me in the transporter room, twenty hundred.” He ordered, as he strode towards the door, wondering how the hell he could persuade Spock to tolerate a night out in a fancy restaurant.

Feeling better, Kirk made his way to the transporter room. Beneath his beige jump-suit, his bruised ribs were aching. But at least the nausea had gone, and he was feeling hungry now. Earlier, he had been to pay his hefty fine, and then caught up on sleep, which had helped.

McCoy was waiting for him. So too was Spock, which surprised him. Obviously McCoy was playing the role of peacemaker. The First Officer was dressed in black pants and a Vulcan tunic, looking as embarrassed as Kirk felt.

“I am gratified that you have recovered, Captain.” Spock said formally, and Kirk nodded a brief acknowledgement, unable to look him in the eye. McCoy surveyed his handiwork, grinning.

“Shall we get going? I’ve booked the table … And I’ll pick up the cheque, okay?”

The restaurant, of galactic repute, certainly lived up to McCoy’s description of it. The food was excellent, and even something for Spock to enjoy. At first, things were strained between them, and they were all uneasy. McCoy, intensely aware of the fact that the responsibility for the evening was his, did enough talking for everyone. Slowly, they all relaxed, even Spock, and Kirk began to enjoy the evening out.

/We belong together/ he thought. /Me, Bones, Spock. Mostly we are comfortable together. The three musketeers. / He smiled.

“Something amusing you, Jim?” Bones asked.

“Not really. Just thinking how good it is to be together.”

“Really.” Spock put in somewhat frostily.

/Christ!/ thought Kirk /don’t spoil this evening! For Bones’s sake, don’t spoil it/

McCoy sensed the sudden discharge of tension, and quickly compensated.

“Well, I guess we’ve all finished. I may as well pay up. Then maybe you’d both come back to my quarters for a nightcap.”

They could hardly refuse after such a pleasant evening at McCoy’s expense, although the strained atmosphere had returned. Within a few minutes, they were back aboard the ‘Enterprise’ and were heading to McCoy’s friendly quarters.

He had some excellent brandy, which he got out almost reverently and poured generous amounts to them all.

“So what’s our next assignment?” Bones asked with forced lightness. “No more star-charting, I hope? The crew gets bored, and a bored crew means an upsurge of totally avoidable accidents. Boredom plays hell with everyone.”

“Everyone, Doctor?” Spock queried, and Bones grinned.

“Sorry, Spock. You excepted. Vulcans never get bored.”

“Well, I have to agree with you, Bones.” Kirk put in conversationally. “I hate star-charting. I hate in-activity. It may be good for the mind, Spock, but it wreaks havoc with crew discipline.”

“So I have recently noted.” Spock put in frostily, reminding him very forcibly of what happened to him. If Spock had meant to hurt him, he had succeeded. Once more there was a frisson of tension, dissipating the aura of congeniality. He finished his brandy, the stood up.

“Bones, I’ve had a great evening, really. Thanks. But I’m tired now, so I guess I’ll turn in. I’ll let you know about our next assignments as soon as I have the details. G’night, Bones. G’night, Spock.”

He went directly to his own quarters, but could not settle. He felt miserable and tense. His thoughts crowded in on him until he thought his head would burst with them. After a few minutes, he heard Spock return to his own quarters. Unable to live with himself any longer, he decided to pay Spock a visit.

In answer to his knock at the door, Spock opened up to him. He had already stripped off his tunic, and was bare-chested. Kirk fought down a rush of desire, and faced up to the Vulcan squarely without entering.

“Maybe I should thank you!” he snapped. “Yeah! On behalf of McCoy, thanks for spoiling the evening! Thanks a million. You sure know how to mess things up!”

“I did not…!”

“So, you’re either a good actor or a convincing liar! And don’t give me all that crap about Vulcans never lie….” He came to an abrupt halt. No! This was not the way! No more pain and bitterness! He took a glance at Spock, but could not read his expression.

“Spock, I’m really sorry.” He apologised wearily. “All this has gotten out of hand, and I don’t know how to put it right. I wish to God I could. Let’s talk. Please let’s talk.”

“Captain, I see no point in discussion. Let us end the matter now before events become intolerable for us both.”

“Spock, what do you take me for? I’m not a male whore for Chris sake! I didn’t sleep with you because I didn’t have much to do that night, but because I love you. Yes, it did scare the hell out of me. I’m still scared, I also still love you.”

At last, Spock’s eyes met his own. At last he seemed to relax.

“Come in.” he invited shortly. “You will attract unwanted attention standing there.”

Grateful for the respite, he barely deserved he stepped over the threshold into the familiar warmth of Spock’s quarters.

“Thanks.” He said awkwardly, suddenly at a loss for words. Spock broke the silence.

“I apologise, Jim, if I frightened you. I never meant to, believe me.”

“I didn’t say you scared me. I meant ‘it’ – the situation. The … the …” he shrugged helplessly, searching for the right words. “Nothing to do with you, Spock, honestly. It was something within me. Something…”

“Inhibitions?” Spock offered and Kirk nodded miserably.

“Yeah. Inhibitions.”

To his surprise, Spock smiled, and an anger borne of conscience welled up.

“What do you find amusing?” he snapped, but Spock did not rise to the bait. Instead, he reached out to him in a gesture of reconciliation.

“Jim, inhibitions are never amusing.”

“You were smiling.”

“I was merely rejoicing.”

“WHAT?”  
“Rejoicing in our – er – uncanny ability to share. I too have inhibitions. I have had to fight against them all my life. My only regret is that I did not recognise the same difficulties in you. I did not think of you. I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you deeply.”

For a second, Kirk hesitated. Then, he took Spock’s hands, relieved laughter bubbling over. They embraced each other, almost crying. Eventually, they held each other at arms-length.

“I’ve been so stupid, Spock!”

“And I so blind.”

“We’ll make amends. Start afresh.”

“Not until you’re ready, Jim. I do not wish…”

“I’m ready! I’m ready! Believe me; I’ve never been so ready in my entire life. I want you now, like I need to breathe!”

“You’re being illogical.”

“Yeah, isn’t it great?”

“Just … great.” Spock agreed, leading him by the hand towards the bed. Sitting down on it, Kirk gazed up at Spock, then slowly and with a flourish he unfastened his friends pant and pulled them and the black briefs down to below the knees.

“Hmm, you look good.”

“You too would look better unclothed.”

Quickly, he stripped off.

“Is that better?” he teased Spock.

“Much better.” Spock agreed, nodding solemnly.

They surveyed each other appreciatively. He had seen Spock naked many times, but never in such circumstances. He was… beautiful, masculine. Spock kicked off the clothes from around his ankles, and Kirk tentatively touched the form, erotically green penis.

Suddenly, he wanted it in his mouth. Want to suck it, taste its alien sweetness, and lick the firm round balls. With a gentle caress, Spock lay down beside him, burying his head between Kirk’s legs. Nipping, teasing.

Kirk shuddered with joy. “Christ Almighty, where did you learn that!”

“You would not believe me.”

“Hmm..”

The moment had come. He took Spock’s penis into his mouth. //Cocksucker! Fucking cocksucker!//  
What the hell! From the first, sweet taste in his mouth, he knew it was more glorious than he had ever dreamed. He licked and sucked, exploring the glans, the crevices, loving the feel of silkiness against his tongue and lips.

Spock had Kirk’s own engorged penis in his mouth now, milking up and down.

“Spock, stop! I’ll come!” he moaned, and for a moment, the pressure lifted.  
“Then come.” Came the invitation. Or was it a command. Either way, he did not care. Again, the pressure mounted on his swollen penis, while Spock fondled his now sensitive balls until he was quivering, with thrusting, pulsating sensations of white hot ecstasy.

He came, spurting semen, ejaculating down Spock’s eager throat. Afterwards: he paused briefly, breathless from the experience, then took Spock’s penis into his mouth again. Faster …faster, until Spock moaned, arching his back as his ejaculation came, filling Kirk’s mouth with impossible amounts of warm, spicy liquid he was forced to swallow, surprised and delighted he managed it without revulsion.

Spock’s body relaxed. For a time Kirk contented himself with gently stroking his friend’s firm buttocks. Eventually, he turned around so he was face-to-face with him.

“Spock, that was a great reunion.”

“Yes. It was good.”

“Are you sleepy?”

“A little. We must have used a lot of energy.”

“Hmm, I’m hungry.”

Spock’s head came up in protest. “Hungry?”

“Sex always makes me hungry.”

“At this time of night?”

“Sure! Best time to eat. I have some food in my cabin. Stay there. I’ll be back.”

In his own quarters, reached by the connecting door through their shared head and shower, he located the food and a bottle of wine. On his return via the same route, Spock was in the shower. /Clean beast!/ putting down the items in the cabin, he returned to the head and showered himself, then they both returned to Spock’s quarters. It was a light-hearted meal as they pulled the quilt from the bed to create a nest, then they sat on the floor and ate. Afterwards, Kirk pushed his plate away and sleepily snuggled up to Spock, who almost absently-mindedly, put an arm around him.

“Spock?”

“Hmm?”

“I do love you. So much…”

He was asleep.


	3. Shoreleave

Kirk awoke, surfacing on a pleasant soft tide of slow awareness, stretching luxuriously, only slowly becoming aware of the Vulcan sleeping beside him. Leaning on one elbow, he looked down fondly at him, remembering the beauty of the night. Giving…taking…sharing…loving.

There were no demons now! They had been dispelled, hopefully together, forever.

It was love: the oneness that was so important. He realised that now. Had probably known it all along. He had just been worrying all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons. And he knew that for years, he had been waiting for the fulfilment of life which Spock – and only Spock could give him!  
Spock looked so vulnerable lying there asleep, naked on top of the quilt they had spread out the night before, one arm flung upwards over his head, his usual tidy hair ruffled endearingly. He had never looked at Spock like that before. He could, he thought, keep on looking at him forever.

Impulsively, and very gently he bent over and kissed him on the forehead.

Spock’s eyes flew open. Then the expression in them softened.

“Hi” Kirk greeted him.

“Good morning, Jim. Sleep well?”

“Like a log. Now I’m hungry. Come on! Let’s shower, then I’ll get us some breaky.”

Minutes later, dressed in casual clothes they sat down to eat the remains of last night’s feast, and Kirk produced a bottle of wine with a flourish.

“Wine? For breakfast?” Spock queried.

Kirk grinned. “Best time of the day. Drink up, cheers!”

Feeling impish, he clinked Spock’s glass. Spock seemed to hesitate, his eyes showing sudden concern.

“Jim .. last night …”

“Was good. So good.” came the gentle reassurance.

“No more regrets?”

“None. Nor shall there be.” He smiled, breaking the solemn mood. “Now drink! I wish you could get tight, Spock! I wish we could get merry together, just once.”

“That,” said Spock gravely “Is … er… one disappointment you will have to live with.”

“I’ll survive.” He finished off his wine. “What do you want to do today?”

“I have some research …”

“Aww no! Forget work for once. Let’s go shopping!”

“Shopping?” Spock protested. “I think not.”

“I need some more Vino. I’ve just depleted my stock. I know a place that does a good line in Verbalian Pan-fruit wine. Most exotic. Supposed to be an aphrodisiac, you know?”

“I did not. But I have no doubt that you have tried its reputation on several occasions.”

“Jealous?”

“Not particularly.”

“Oh.”

He registered fleeting disappointment. Then: “Well come on then! Put on your hat and coat! We’ll go shopping!”

“I have no hat or coat.” Spock looked vaguely bewildered but now, Kirk was anxious to be off. Impatiently, he moved towards the door.

“Please come, Spock! Please…”

With a resigned shrug, Spock followed him.

//I am proud to walk beside him// Spock thought as he strode beside Jim through Starbase 16’s extensive shopping precinct. //My friend, my Captain …my…my lover. My handsome, headstrong, loving Jim. I am proud, humanly proud, to be by his side.”

He watched Jim move gracefully through the cosmopolitan crowds with a new insight now, admiring his confidence, his self-assurance. All the pain and hurt of the last few days had gone now. Entirely dissipated in the aura and wonderment of love.

Jauntily, Jim swing two bottles of Pan-juice on his hands as he walked. He had brought the wine with boyish enthusiasm. Now, he was “window shopping” stopping now and then to point out something interesting in one of the brightly lit store windows. Spock went along with him, patiently and quietly, just content that Jim was happy.

Eventually they stopped in front of a window of a very exclusive establishment, with just one robe on display. It was black, with silver dragons emblazoned on each breast, a high stand-up collar and beautiful snake-belt.

“Wow! Will you just look at that?” Jim exclaimed enthusiastically.

“I AM looking. It is rather ostentatious.”

“It’s beautiful!”

“Well…”

Jim was not to be put off. “It would suit you so much, Spock!”

“I think not!”

“Sure it would! Let’s go in and try it on!”

“I’d much rather not.” He felt embarrassed … reluctant to venture inside. But Jim insistently tugged at his arm, his face so alight with youthful enthusiasm, he finally capitulated. From the depths of a darkened interior an assistant appeared.

“May I help you, Sirs?”

It was Jim’s turn to look embarrassed, Spock noted amusedly. He was even blushing slightly as he asked the assistant – who had obviously recognised them – finally took the robe from the window, and produced it with a practice flourish.

“Try it in, Spock.” Kirk begged eagerly.

“Must I?” he appealed. “It is very expensive.”

“And worth every credit, Sir!” He was quickly assured. “This is the finest Argellian silk, handmade and hand embroidered by the raven-haired deserts dwellers of …”

Impatiently, Jim snatched the robe away from the man and held it up against Spock.

“It fits you! I’ll take it. Wrap it up, please.”

“JIM!”

“Aw, stop nattering, Spock! ‘Sides, it’s too late now! That gorgeous garment is now all yours…er…ours. Aw shuddup and just enjoy it, huh?”

A few minutes later – by now Spock was so dizzy with Jim’s impulsiveness, he had momentarily lost his time sense – the bargain had been made.

“A wise decision, Sir.” He was assured by the assistant. “Starfleet credit? I’ll just check your credit against the comp. Won’t take long.”

Soon, they were now in the precinct, with the expensive parcel under Jim’s arm, with Spock now carrying the wine. Spock felt he had now had enough and hoped he could soon return to the Enterprise. But hoe, he knew all too well, was illogical.

“Spock, let’s not go back to our old girl today!”

“Where else do you suggest we stay?”

Triumphantly, Spock pointed to the most exclusively Intergalactic hotel on Starbase 16, an elegant, beautiful building rising one kilometre above, supported by delicately curved arches of glittering titanium.

“There?” Spock queried, incredulously. Eye brow on the rise.

Jim grinned, familiar devilment dancing in his hazel eyes. Not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, Spock felt something warm and good blossom inside of him, and knew there was nothing he could refuse this man he loved so much.

“Spock, stop questioning me!” Jim said mischievously. “I am your senior officer! I’ve always wanted to spend the night there with someone I love, but the opportunity and the special someone never came. Now, I have that someone, so how can I miss this opportunity? With you, my very special someone!”

Spock’s mouth quirked in a very, very small smile. Fondly. Briefly. They were in a very public place after all. “An opportunity missed,” he agreed, “Would be most unfortunate.”

Together, they strode eagerly towards the impressive structure, taking the glass elevators towards Reception. The suite, which Spock insisted on paying form, was undoubtedly sumptuous. A spacious lounger led into an even more spacious bedroom. The bathroom, filed with sonic and hydro showers also had a sunken bath. Carpeting lay thickly on the floor and the walls were tastefully decorated with muted shades of blue. The expense of windows in the lounge afforded a breath-taking view of the Starbase.

“Our Enterprise is out there somewhere.” Jim said gazing out to the clear blue sky, and Spock felt very close to him. //Usually, Jim referred to ‘my’ Enterprise. The use of the word ‘our’ brought them together somehow. Cojoined: One. They shared the most important and precious thing in Jim’s life,// and Spock was happy.

Like a boy on a road to adventure, Jim tried everything. He tugged off his boots and socks, wiggling his bare toes in the pile of the carpet. He tried out the audio-visuals and the large square holo. He tested out the air conditioning and the heating, jabbed impatiently at the buttons on the intercom, jumping back in surprise when a flat, automated voice asked “Room service. How can we help you?”  
He turned to Spock, who shrugged, then grinned irrepressibly. “What the hell!” he muttered, then turned back to the intercom, blithely ordering a wide selection of food from the menu readout. Still astounded, but not daring – or wanting – to spoil Jim’s reality of what was a long-held fantasy, Spock followed him wordlessly into the bedroom, where Jim stretched out luxuriously, holding out his arms.

“Come here, Spock! Don’t be so stiff and formal!”

“The food you ordered will soon be here..”

“Come HERE,” came the demand. Then, quietly “Please.”

Eager hands caught his arms, pulling him down onto the bed into a fierce embrace. At first, Spock squirmed as Kirk crushed him hard in a searching, open-mouthed kiss, but as his salty human tongue sought out the crevices of his mouth, he relaxed, his own tongue exploring Jim’s mouth.  
A two-tone ‘bleep’ signalled the arrival of food. Reluctantly and somewhat breathless, they came out of the embrace.

“Damn meal!” Jim grumbled and Spock smiled.

“You ordered it!”

“Yeah.” There was a sigh, then an embracing of his shoulders. “Yeah!” he repeated. “Cummon, Spock, let’s eat. We have the entire night ahead of us.”

Despite the fact that the Vulcans never … or supposedly never... ate until their bodies required nourishment, Spock thoroughly enjoyed the meal which they ate in companionable silence. A bottle of Pan wine they shared between them, which made Spock feel warm and comfortable.

Undoubtedly, it had the properties claimed for it. Drinking down the last of his own wine, Jim leaned across to retrieve the parcel containing the robe.

“Please, put it on, Spock.”

“Now?”

“Now. I’ve been longing to see you in it. Go put it on in the bathroom. Then you can just – present yourself.”

“You are most illogical.”

“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Hmm,” Spock said, but Jim knew he was joking and grinned disarmingly.

“Please! Do I have to beg?”

“Er .. no. Not now, but perhaps later.”

The hazel eyes lit up. “The Pan fruit wine…”

“Has lived up to its reputation, James T Kirk. I will go and put on the robe.”

In the bathroom, he stripped naked, then dressed in the robe before making a self-conscious entrance into the lounge. Uncurling himself, Jim stood up, slowly made a circle round him, and then stepped back one pace.

“You look magnificent! Masculine! Sexual!”

Spock turned away, embarrassed, and Jim took his hand. “Don’t feel awkward, Spock. I appreciate you putting it on, really. Thank you.”

“You should not have bought it for me.”

“My love gift to you.”

“It is most beautiful.” Spock agreed. “All the same…”

Kirk put a gentle finger on his lips. “Hush. Don’t spoil it. Just accept it, enjoy it and wear it for me alone.”

“I have no gift for you.”

“You have. Yourself. That is all I need. And you do look gorgeous. I love you so much it hurts. Come to bed.”

Wordlessly, lovingly, Spock allowed Jim to lead him into the bedroom by the hand. Close to the bed, Jim stopped, turned to face him and begin a loving journey of exploration, beginning with Spock’s face; taking his time, savouring each touch, each probe of his sensitive fingers slowly moving downwards, feeling the smooth cool fabric of the robe with one hand, the other stroking beneath it, teasing his nipples into an erection. Jim was the expert, and Spock stood transfixed, loving every touch and beginning to tremble with anticipation.

Jim’s hands reached his waist and with a deft movement, he unclasped the snake belt. It made no noise as it fell to the carpeted floor. The robe fell open, revealing his nakedness, and Jim, with a kiss-touch of brief farewell, stepped back to gaze at him.

Usually, Spock disliked being looked at so frankly and would not normally tolerate it. But Jim was different. There was the light of affection and genuine appreciation in his hazel eyes: a longing born of love and caring in his expression. He felt a tingling – unfamiliar until a few days ago –in his genitals, which soon became more urgent as his erection hardened, uncontrolled. Jim bent down to kiss his penis, but Spock pushed him back gently.

“Jim, I’m at an unfair advantage. Let me undress you.”

Spock undertook the task with great enjoyment. Slowly. Longingly. First the shirt. Then the trousers. Finally, the briefs, lingering over the firm buttocks. Down the legs, until Jim finally stepped out of it before he stretched out on the bed, smiling at him fondly.

“What’s funny?” Spock asked and Jim laughed openly.

“Your passion, my impassionable Vulcan! Don’t ever tell me that Vulcans are unemotional again!”

“The Pan-fruit wine…?”

“Shit! It didn’t affect you that much! And I love you so much like this. You are … primitive!”

“Primitive?” Spock echoed with mock disapproval, and Jim laughed again.

“Like a caged lion! And I, Mister, am going to unlock your cage!”

With a mock roar, Jim embraced him, gently at first but increasingly passionate. Their bodies seemed to melt together. Their genitals rubbed together, their nuzzling lips and exploring tongues seeking out intimate recesses almost hungrily. Tightly, they pressed their abdomens together, their genitals now in close contact, squeezed by the pressure of their nearness. To and fro their bodies rocked arithmetically, thrust by their pelvic muscles. Then Jim took Spock’s impressive rock-hard penis into his hand.

“Gently, Jim. Take, it easy. I .. I may burst!”

“So may I” came Jim’s whispered agreement and eased off the pressure as he shuffled down to take Spock’s penis into his mouth. He squeezed, played, probed with experienced fingers and quickly brought Spock to an agonizing pitch of near orgasm.

“Hold it!”

Spock’s voice was hoarse as he gently took Jim’s head into his hands, indicating he needed another close embrace. As Jim hitched back up the bed, Spock turned onto his back, inviting Jim to lie on top of him.

Firmly, Jim lowered himself onto Spock’s body, consumed with the feelings of his passion, lunging, thrusting urgently, too much inspiring love and oneness! Spock approached his orgasm, moaning in an uncontrolled ecstasy of pleasure and pain. It happened to both of them at the same moment in a final, frantic surge of power as they spent themselves in a chaos of emotional and physical energy. Then came the delightful calm. Separating, they lay within the protection of each other’s arms. Relaxed, satiated, loving, Kirk was the first to move. He gave Spock a final unashamed hug, kissing him gently.

“Thanks. You were incredible.”

“So are you, Jim. You make me feel .. fulfilled. For the first time in my life, I am fulfilled.”

Jim blinked. Was that a sudden rush of tears in Jim’s eyes? He laughed almost self-consciously. 

“Hey, stop that! You’ll make me cry!” 

Tenderly, Spock brushed away one wayward tear from Jim’s cheek, which had managed to escape.

“Please do not cry, Jim. Unless it is with happiness.”

“But I AM happy.” Jim admitted, then quickly broke the mood by sitting up and hauling Spock up with him. “Come on,” he ordered gruffly.

“Where to?” he asked, and Jim grinned. 

“I want to pee.”

“You do not require me to do that.”

“And I could do with a bath in that luxurious tub.”

“With that, I do agree.”

“And a large, fat hamburger, topped with relish and dripping with tomato sauce…”

“Jim!”

Jim slid from the bed, playfully tugging at Spock’s arms. “Cummon! I’ll burst. It’s getting really   
urgent!”

Spock marvelled at himself. With Jim, his inhibitions disappeared and could overcome his natural shyness and relax in the warm glow of unrestrained happiness. With Jim, his spirits sored to heights he had never before experienced in his entire life. Even doing something as private as relieving himself in to the toilet with Jim at his side, doing the same, was now so natural and relaxed and … normal. Drinking deeply of the new sensations of freedom, he willingly padded along beside his friend to the sunken bath, now filled with sweet scented water, thinking he would follow him to the ends of the galaxy and beyond.

Idly, Jim thumbed a button on the rim of the bath. Immediately the bath water began to bubble gently, making Jim grin with delight. 

“Hey, look at this! I’ve always wanted to try one of these!”

Spock looked down curiously. He preferred sonic showers, never having really cultivated the human love of water. But this particular tub did look intriguing.

“What” he asked “Is it supposed to do?”

“Come in and see!” Came the invitation as Jim stepped down into the water, plunging his body in, then surfacing, shaking his head, showering water over Spock. “Come on!” he urged. “It’s lovely!”  
Cautiously, Spock stepped into the bath of bubbling water. Immediately, he was surrounded by silky-soft sensations that relaxed him. It was not sexual he decided. Just …

“Lovely.” He murmured softly, sliding down into it. Jim planted a wet kiss on his face.

“Here, let me soap you, and then you can soap me.”

It was the strangest and most wonderful bath Spock had ever experienced … and that was not too many. He loved the feeling of the gently bubbling water against his naked body. But most of all, he loved Jim soaping him, and when his turn came soaping Jim, massaging all the now familiar muscles, lingering here and there to remember the places that made Jim giggle with pleasure. It was with reluctance they finally both climbed out and dried each other with the oversized towels. Then, swathed in clean, dry ones, they went through into the lounge where Jim again ordered food from room service.

As he ate, Spock began to feel tired. A warm, relaxing weariness, that flowed peacefully over his entire body. He watched Jim barely stifle a yawn as he licked tomato ketchup from his fingers. Spock smiled at him lovingly.

“I too am tired.”

“Yeah. Guess it is time to turn in. At least we’ll have sweet dreams tonight.”

Five minutes later, as they snuggled up in bed, Jim said softly.

“Thank you for making my fantasy come true.”

“I enjoyed your fantasy too.”

“Don’t you have one?”

How could he tell Jim of his own single fantasy? How could he say that his dearest wish was to bond with him? The ultimate gift of Oneness. Jim had always been free. Like a bird .. a beautiful wild bird. It would be wrong to cage him.

“Spock?” Jim promised.

“Vulcans do not fantasise.”

“No? Well if you ever do, let me know. I’ll want most dearly to make it a reality.”

“I am just happy to be near you, Jim.” He said sleepily.

And he meant that most sincerely.


	4. Enterprise

It was almost a mundane return to the ‘Enterprise’ but Kirk soon settled into the familiar routine once more, especially when the Starship moved away from Starbase 16 towards the Coridan system where, two weeks later, a landing party made successful overtures to the inhabitants of the third planet who were on the verge of applying for membership to the Federation.

Mainly, it was Spock’s success since the inhabitants were of Vulcan stock. He had obviously inherited his Father’s flair for diplomacy. 

Kirk and Spock’s relationship flourished in the familiar warmth of their own surroundings. The Starbase 16 experience had been a most beautiful interlude. Now, they were able to settle down to reality: learn from each other how to create their own day-to-day oneness: to mature from the breathless excitement of their “honeymoon” to the depths of caring and loving.

Yet there was something missing. At first, Kirk was at a loss to define exactly what it was. But as they grew together, daily learning from each other how to love even more, he slowly became aware of what it was. That for Spock, that there was no final, irrevocable commitment. And he knew that he wanted it.

Needed it most dearly.

Spock was teaching him to mediate. Already he had reached stage two of the process, and felt relaxed, free from tension after each session and realized why Vulcans held it in high esteem. After the Coriden mission, the ‘Enterprise’ was now patrolling the Romulan-Federation border, a duty that usually made Kirk ill-tempered and prone to tension headaches. Yet this time, he was move philosophical about the situation as a whole. With his new-found ability to look deep into his mind, he was able to gain new perspectives and insights in his inner self, and he became relaxed and far less tense.

McCoy as usual, noticed. There was not much the doctor did not notice, particularly where Kirk was concerned. Sometimes, Kirk wondered if Bones had guessed his relationship with Spock. He was certainly astute enough. But McCoy neve r mentioned a word of it, and Kirk was certainly not going to tell him. If he was to know – and he HAD to, sooner or later – then they would both break the news to him together.

“Jim, I can’t understand it.” The doctor said to him one evening as they ate a late dinner together in a near-deserted officer’s mess. “Ware patrolling the Romulan border, a dangerous, nerve-wracking job at the best of times and I’ve not had you in Sickbay once for a headache pill.”

“So?”

“So, that’s unusual, that’s what! You’re not sickening for something, are you?”

Kirk laughed. “Do I look sick, Bones?”

“Nope, I am not sick, really. I’ve never felt better. Spock is teaching me to mediate. Guess that’s made all the difference.”

“Huh!” McCoy commentated gruffly and Kirk pressed a hand on the doctor’s shoulder as he stood up.

“Beats your pills and potions, Bones! Try it sometime!”

“Not on your ass, James T!” McCoy said gravely, and then waved him a non-committal goodbye as he walked jauntily from the mess.

Even so, despite the undoubted well-being that meditation gave him, he felt a strange longing inside of him: an emptiness awaiting fulfilment. He had waited so long for Spock to bring up the subject of bonding, but he had waited in vain and he realized that he must do it, because he wanted it so much. Yet he was somewhat afraid of the reaction, of possible rejection. All the same, he made up his mind. Completeness was now what he most wanted.

It had been a trying day, the sort when even Kirk’s newly found patience was sorely tried and once or twice, he had snapped at someone; at the Commodore who had sent a subspace message that ‘Enterprise’ must continue the patrol over that sector; at the two young ensigns who had committed minor breaches of discipline. It had also seemed an extremely long day. The ‘Enterprise’ was in a sensitive and dangerous area of the patrol and neither of the two senior officers could leave the bridge until it had been navigate successfully.

After almost fifteen hours he felt more like going to bed than anything else. He was bone-weary and even almost too tired to eat. In his quarters at last, he thankfully pulled off his shirt and stretched out on his bunk.

Spock would understand, he thought, closing his eyes gratefully, hoping that the Vulcan would also be tired. Suddenly, sensing that someone else was in his cabin, his eyes flew open.

“Spock! You startled me!”

“I did not intend to, Jim. You look tired.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I need less sleep than you. I thought I could help you to relax.”

“Thanks. But I was almost asleep anyway.”

He watched Spock’s expression change. He looked almost crestfallen. Despite his weariness, Kirk felt guilty for his snappiness.

“I’m sorry Spock.”

“I understand. Goodnight, Jim.”

“Oh Spock, don’t sulk! Come here, please!”

He held out his arms and Spock came into them, climbing onto the bed beside him. Another re-joining, Kirk thought. Every time I hold him in my arms it is another re-joining, as bright and as fresh as the first time. Briefly and tenderly, Spock placed his long slender fingers to Kirk’s temples. Most of the weariness dissipated. Now, he felt merely warm and comfortable and pleasantly drowsy. Slowly, he traced his fingers across Spock’s face.

“Spock, tell me about bonding?”

Spock pulled away and an uneasy feeling began in the put of Kirk’s stomach. Cursing himself, he tried to make amends as he pulled Spock back towards him.

“I didn’t want to upset you. I’m sorry.”

“You have not upset me. It was unexpected, that is all.”

“Surely, you must know I had thought of it? That I must be wondering about it? Please tell me about the ceremony.”

“There is no real ceremony of bonding of two consenting adults.” Spock volunteered reluctantly. It was too late to bring a halt to this conversation, so Jim forged ahead.

“So tell me about it.”

“It is a most private thing.”

Kirk smiled. “It must be, since you are so reticent.”

“It is a serious thing, not to be undertaken lightly.” There was a tone of admonishment in his voice. Kirk held him closely.

“Silly Vulcan! Nothing I do with you is ever taken lightly. I love you. I am committed to you. It’s as simple as that.”

“It would not be easy for either of us.”

“To accomplish?”

“To sustain. Your.. your nature, Jim. You have always been…free. You might feel restrained. Perhaps, resentful.”

Kirk propped himself on one elbow, smiling down at the serious Vulcan. “Okay, so now give me the positive side of things. There must some.”

“It would be forever, Jim.”

“I would not want it any other way. It has to be forever. And I promise I would never feel resentful of our closeness. I need it, like the air I breathe. And I want it forever. About that I have never been more serious in my life.”

“You have loved before.”

“Yes. Vividly, briefly.” Kirk remembered. Edith…Miramarnee.. “Yes,” he repeated with a sigh. “Yet they were different. Urgent. Like a tornado overtaking me. And I knew it could not last. May be I deluded myself whilst I was in their company. But deep within myself, I knew it could not last forever. Lovely, beautiful, but brief. And you..” He paused to stroke his hand lovingly over Spock’s crumbled shirt. “You are forever, Spock. Deep within myself, I know that too.”

“There would be oneness like we have never known before.”

“It would be…glorious.”

They embraced each other. Gently, lovingly. Then, Kirk pulled away. “You wish to be bonded, don’t you Spock?”

Almost perceptibly, Spock nodded. “But I had to be sure. For both our sakes.”

“Please say it! Say that you wish to be bonded with me.”

“Yes, Jim.” He agreed at last. “I do want to be bonded with you. More than anything else in the galaxy.”

Happier now, Jim snuggled up to him, enjoying the closeness and the warmth of love. Protectively, Spock put an arm around him as he fell into a peaceful sleep.


	5. Bonding

Ten weeks after the tour of duty on the Romulan-Federation border began; Enterprise was at last relieved and began to follow a course through a little-explored, largely empty sector of space towards the beautiful little planet of Ziron. A federation out post and popular R&R base for the crews of Starships and patrol vessels. The journey there would take three standard weeks. All the same, the crew were able to relax somewhat after the tensions of the patrol. There was an easy-going atmosphere throughout the ship as the dangers were put behind them and the crew began to look forward to respite, R&R, and to re-joining ‘civilisation’.

Kirk’s own love-life had suffered considerably. Either he or Spock had been on different shifts during the patrol, or they had both worked so long and hard, that, Kirk in particular was so tired when he came off duty that all he wanted was to sleep – a restless one at the since there was always the possibility of being called to the bridge. Unlike Spock, he could not simply turn off exactly when he wanted to.

When the chance came to relax at last, he had been wound up tight and for so long, that he found any relaxation difficult. Normally, he would have sought out McCoy for medical aide, much as the doctor disliked such chemical means.

But now, he had Spock, and the warm, good feeling enfolded him whenever he thought of him. Now, he could go to Spock and find love and peace. The oneness of bonding was still a short step away? Neither of them wanted to spoil their special time together to have to deal with an emergency, yet now, it was close… So close.

//Perhaps tonight// Kirk thought, as he made his way eagerly from the bridge to Spock’s quarters. //Please let it be tonight.//

Spock, in a light meditational trance, was wearing the black robe he had given to him on Starbase 16. Immediately, he came out of the trance and stood up to greet him, warmly embracing him before taking his hand and leading him from the door into the main body of his cabin. His deep, dark eyes were alive with sparkle and kirk’s heart soared with happiness at their closeness. If he had wings, he could fly.

Spock had set out a simple meal. Two wine glasses were filled with rich amber liquid that Kirk knew to be “K’dansi” a fiery Vulcan spirit reserved for the most honoured guests to a Vulcan household.  
Spock was honouring him. Yet, he thought ashamedly, it should be he who honoured Spock. Loving, loyal, trusting Spock, who patiently put up with his moodiness and bad temper. Who eased his tensions and supported him in moments of crisis. Like an ever-present guardian angel, caring for him night and day.

“You should believe in guardian angels, Spock.”

“Angels?” Spock raised an eyebrow, his expression frowning with mock disapproval, Kirk laughed.

“I think you are one!” Kirk teased gently, and before Spock could deny this, he silenced him with a kiss. “Shut up! If I say you are, then you are! Did I ever tell you how good you look in that robe?”  
“Frequently.”

“Hmm, then I shall tell you once again. You look so well in it.”

“Jim, please sit down and eat.” Spock said, looking awkward.

In high spirits, Kirk now obeyed, seating himself as they usually did, cross legged on the floor.  
//I come here tired and tense// he thought //one glance, one kiss from you and I am relaxed and happy. Spock, my happiness pill. My beautiful Vulcan! //

Spoke broke off some of the kadav and gave it to him. On Vulcan, Kardav was known as the ‘food of love.’

“How come it is known as ‘the food of love’?” Kirk asked and Spock blushed a delicate shade of green. He was always so embarrassed when asked to explain or describe Vulcan emotions. Even ancient ones. He had, Kirk reasoned, spent his whole life denying them – until now.

“The ‘God-Feast’ was a festival of Warriors for the males of my clan. It was a .. masculine society, you understand? Many of the Warriors had love-bonded partners, with whom they lived, loved, fought and often died together. The festival was an affirmation of their bonding, and the acceptance of the Kadav from their respective partners was the token of their continuing relationship. Their Oneness.”

Thoughtfully, Kirk swallowed the Kadav still in his mouth. Then he picked some of the Kadav still in the dish, and offered it to Spock. “I accepted your token. Spock. Now accept mine. We are one, we are whole. I love you.”

Alien eyes, burning into his own. Alien features, now revealing pent up passion, love and longing of a lifetime. Kirk thought he would melt under the intensity of the gaze. Spock accepted the Kadav and ate it.

“In reality,” he said at last “we are not bonded.”

“Then let us make it our reality, Spock. Forever. Until the end of time itself.”

“Yes,” Spock agreed simply. Then he stirred, standing upright, straightening himself almost to attention, as though preparing his body for what was to come. Eventually, he gazed down at Kirk still seated on the floor, hardly daring to move.

“Drink the Kadasi, Jim. It will assist your bonding with me.”

“I prefer no help. I need no help.”

“You are not a telepath.”

“I love you. That is all the assistance I will ever need.”

Confidence. So much confidence! He was bursting with it. “Come then.” Spock said, and when Kirk scrambled to his feet, they walked hand-in-hand to the fire-pot. Quietly, Spock killed all the lighting in the cabin with one deft hand over the pressure sensitive switch. The blue flame of the fire-pot flickered eerily over their faces and cast great black shadows on the walls, lending a subdued atmosphere to the proceedings.

Unclasping the snake-belt, Spock let it fall to the floor. There was a soft, unmistakeable rustle as the robe joined the belt, crumpling into elegant folds behind them.

Spock was naked. Beautiful masculine nakedness. Kirk caught his breath, fighting down the almost irresistible urge to embrace and explore the beauty.

“Strip.”

It was an order. With shaking hands, and with his heart pounding against his ribs, Kirk obeyed. In his nakedness, the urgency of his arousal was amply displayed by the size of his erection. Spock gave him his penetrating appraisal. Then he turned to a little table beside him, took something from a bowl and tossed it into the fire-pot. Heady perfume immediately filled the cabin as the blue flame flared brighter, diffusing life into the room.

“Come, Jim.”

No order this time. Just a softly spoken invitation. Wordlessly, eagerly, Kirk moved until he was with the encircling warmth of Spock’s arms, his penis gently caressing that other, alien one he had come to love so much. Almost drunk with the atmosphere, the light, intoxicating perfume and Spock’s enormous charisma, he closed his eyes, content to drink in the sensual sensations of his lover’s closeness. Spock’s own organ stirred, rising in a smooth sleek shaft of green.

Gently, Spock grasped Kirk’s right hand, sought out the thumb and forefinger and placed them astride his own pulsating temples. Then, with his own hand positioned against Kirk’s forehead.

“This bonding between us is of our own desire. When complete, we will be joined in complete Oneness: two separate identities linked by love: two minds forged by the strength of brotherhood into a perfect whole.”

Their bodies began to sway, almost to the tune of Spock’s words.

Harmoniously

Rhythmically

Like silent music played by the joyousness of their souls. “Your mind to my mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts. We shall be One. Touching but never touching. Loving and always loving…We shall be One.”

Into his mind, his thoughts, his most private being came a most wonderful pattern of colour, intermingled with heightened sensations of touch, smell, hearing, sight, as though his whole mind was being orchestrated into a symphony. Yet it was unobtrusive, gentle, wrapping his mind with a soft, lovely glow of perfect love and joy.

An entity. A separate entity.

“Spock?”

Emotions weaving into the symphony with rich cadencies of their own love and laughter. Joy, beauty, sorrow, tears, hope. But above all, love. Overwhelming, brilliant love. He bathed in its glory, wanting it to last forever.

//Jim, open your eyes to me.//

//How?//

//I will assist you. Give yourself to me. Wholly, freely.//

Very slowly he found his way through the fingers of Spock’s mind, amazed at the vast depth he found there. Hungry for more, he became bolder and stronger, advancing with his new-found confidence. Spock within him gave him gentle encouragement.

Vast loneliness…weeping for the lost years of love’s denial. Blossoming hope, opening like the petals of a flower into a kaleidoscope of colours and sounds of true fulfilment. Joining .. Oneness .. the completeness. The symphony, like gossamer threads of sensation inside .. inside their minds; Their souls united. One. Together. Always.

Very gently, Spock kissed him goodbye. Withdrew, and Kirk felt an overwhelming sadness.

“Oh please, Spock, don’t go..”

“I must. We will make it happen again.”

Silence now. The rich cadences of their mutual orchestration had faded. Yet they had not died. Kirk could sense a calm, assuming, unobtrusive presence within him.

Spock.

Bonded, for all time.

One.


	6. The future

“Jim, we must talk about the future.” Spock pleaded as his bond-mate prepared to snuggle up to him. He had tried twice before since their bonding to approach the subject, but Jim had managed in his usual skilful to avoid it.

But now, Spock was determined not to put it off any longer. Fortunately, they had spent a most relaxing evening together, and this time he had caught Jim unaware. All the same, the human wriggled uncomfortably.

“Spock, let’s live for today. The future is an entire galaxy away!”

“But like old age, cannot be put off.”

“In our occupation, we might not reach old age. And I’m not going to discuss our deaths … particularly yours.”

“Mine could possibly be yours. We are bonded.”

“Good! I couldn’t live with you. We live or die together; I wouldn’t want it any other way.”  
“I may be able to break our bond at the moment before my death.”

Jim’s eyes filled with tears. “PLEASE!” he protested. “Don’t spoil our evening. Not now.”.  
“In the event of our bond being broken, I have assigned my possession, my lands and rights to you. Completely and without reservations..”

“Spock, DON’T. All I ever want or care about is you! What the hell good to me is the wealth of the entire universe, if I lost you? I love you. I love you so much it sometimes hurts!”

Spock took Jim’s hand into his own. “Jim, I want to do this for you.”

Jim gave a resigned shrug, resting his head gently onto Spock’s naked chest. “I have nothing to give you in exchange. Just a few thousand credits. My family ranch.”

Soothingly, Spock stroked Jim’s ruffled hear. How could he tell Jim that his death would mean Spock’s death too? Jim would not be able to sever the bond. They would die together. Jim must never know, he decided.

“Hush now, T’hy’la, my Warrior. It is finished. We have discussed it. Now, let it end.”

Jim lapsed into a thoughtful silence. He seemed to be dozing peacefully, when he suddenly lifted his head and looked up at him.

“Spock, what does your Father have to say about all this? I mean, giving your inheritance to an outworlder?”

“I have not consulted Sarek.”

“Don’t you think you should?”

“Why? It has nothing to do with him.” Spock felt awkward now, embarrassed almost. But it was Jims turn to be persistent now.

“Sarek should be told. Amanda too. They should know about our bonding. It would be an awful shock to them if something did happen and they found out afterwards.”

“Does your Mother know?” he asked reasonably and Jim gave a non-committal shrug.

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Well... It just is! I’ve never been close to my Mother. She wouldn’t give a damn. But your parents would. Especially Sarek.”

“I do not want to discuss my relationship with Sarek.” He did not add //because I am still intimidated by him// But that, he knew was the truth.

“Are you so ashamed of me?” came Jim’s needling voice. “Ashamed of being bonded to an outworlder?”

“No Jim, that is not true.”

“Maybe you think Sarek would be.”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“Because, T’hy’la, it is neither his, nor Amanda’s, business.”

“Spock, that’s not true.”

“No” Spock admitted quietly, and knew there would be no peace until Jim heard the truth of his reluctance. “A more selfish and illogical reason. I do not want to share what we have found together. Especially, I do not want it dissected by my parents.”

“But I want to share. I want to tell everyone who wants to listen. ‘Coming out’ they used to call it. Well, I want to come out right now. I’m bursting with all this love inside of me, Spock! For you…”

//Oh my dear, impetuous, loving Jim! The pride within me at being able to walk at your side will never diminish. If only I could express myself as well as you.//

Aloud, he said: “That would be inadvisable, Jim.”

“Yeah, maybe so.” Jim agreed. “But I still think we should tell our friends. Hell, why should we lie low? We’ve done nothing to be ashamed of. Y’know, I’ve had this dream of you and me walking hand in hand along the ‘Enterprise’ corridors. Okay, so that’s improbably. All the same, I’d like our friends to know, especially Bones. He has to know sooner or later anyway.”

“Perhaps.” Spock agreed shortly. “But we are complete. One. It would make no difference if we were to broadcast the fact. There would be problems.”

“We can surmount them all, together.”

“Maybe.”

“Spock, are you so unsure of our relationship?”

“No, Jim, I am not. But I do know what it is like to be different. To be set apart. You do not. You have always been … accepted. Believe me, it can be most traumatic. I do not want you to be hurt.”

“I’m a big boy now! I can take of myself.”

There was an angry edge to Jim’s voice now. Spock signed resignedly, placing a hand over Jim’s.  
“Please do not quarrel. It can be so damaging.”

Briefly, their eyes met. Hazel eyes were clouded over with the anger obviously smouldering in the background. Jim snatched his hand away.

“You’re right as usual. No point in arguing. I’m very tired tonight, Spock. G’night.”

Abruptly, Jim turned away from him, feigning sleep. For a time, Spock did not try to unite them. Instead, he lay there, cold with unexpected loneliness and rejection. He knew Jim was right. McCoy at least should be told. He was their friend; a very special one. To tell him of their relationship, to share with him, would be another step forward towards their maturity.

“Jim, are you awake?”

“Of course. How could I sleep?”

“You are correct. We must tell McCoy.”

Jim turned to face him, now alive with relief. “Oh, Spock, I didn’t mean to argue.”

“Nor I.”

“If you’re sure, we’ll tell Bones. I mean..”

“I am sure, T’hy’la.”

“When? Tomorrow? The sooner the better.”

He paused. “Yes,” he agreed. “Tomorrow.”

Relaxing into Jim’s arms, he knew they were reunited, warmth replacing the cold misery of rejection.  
“Spock?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“I love you so much.”


	7. McCoy

McCoy quietly finished the examination he was doing on the Captain, who was stretched out on the couch, stripped to the waist. Finally, he looked up.

“A1 as usual.” He reported. “Except you have some … er bruises… around your neck and your chest. What the hell have you been up to?”

Jim blushed to the roots of his hair.

“Er .. guess it must have happened during a workout in the gym.” 

“Try again,” McCoy invited. “That’s the answer Spock gave me too. When I questioned him about his bruises!”

“So!” Jim snapped defensively. “We were in the gym. Spock doesn’t tell lies!”

“Not usually,” he agreed sourly. 

Jim sat up, swinging his legs over the couch. “You said I was A1. That’s where your duty ends, Bones.” With his jaw tight, he jumped from the couch and pulled on his tunic, while McCoy pointedly busied himself with his medical tricorder.

“Can I go now?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, you can go.”

Deep in thought, he watched Jim depart, biting his lip with a sudden surge of anger. What the hell did Jim … and Spock for that matter … take him for? He damn well knew the difference between normal bruises and … Love bites?

//Aw, to hell with it? None of your blasted business anyway! But it IS. If Jim and Spock were carrying on together..//

//So what if they were?// his alter ego argued back. //You aint got hang-ups about homosexuality, for Christ sake! Or so you’ve always loudly and proudly stated! An in a way, this ‘thing; with Jim and Spock was kinda inevitable! You’ve seen it coming a long, long time, even before Jim got himself hung up on Starbase 16 and damn-near ruined his clean record.”

//But this is Jim and Spock you crazy bastard! Not some faceless crewman you scarcely know. Your friends, dammit! Your best friends! Shouldn’t make a goddamm difference, but it does! And it hurts like crazy too.//

//Selfish bastard! They’re still your friends, aren’t they? That aint changed and never will. Just cos you made a mess of your own love life! Just cos they’ve found something you’ve never had.//

He heard the switch of the door opening, then footsteps padding up behind him. Turning, he saw that Jim had returned.

“Bones … er … sorry about earlier.”

“S’all right.” He accepted grudgingly.

“Yes … well …” Jim shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Look, come to my quarters for dinner, huh?”

“Well …” he hedged, longing to answer yes.

“Please, Bones. I want you to.”

He smiled, relaxing as he committed himself. “Sure, I’d like that, Jim.” he said, meaning it.   
Jim grinned. “Say 20:00 hours,” he said and jauntily walked away.

At exactly 20:00 hours, McCoy thunked the buzzer on Jim’s door and when it opened, he stepped inside warily, not exactly knowing what to expect, but feeling silly to be so awkward.

“Hi!” he greeted Jim, then saw Spock and carefully checked his embarrassment. “Hi, Spock,” he said as casually as he could.

“Good evening,” the Vulcan replied briefly and McCoy could detect a strange atmosphere in the ether. He tried hard not to look at Spock, who was dressed in a magnificent robe. He also noted in the awkward lull that they were both wearing IDIC’s around their necks. Some sort of token of the relationship!

Brief, sharp, painful jealousy grabbed at him. Fortunately, it not last long.

“Drink, Bones?” Jim offered, and he asked for a scotch, thinking he would need it. As the captain invited him to sit down at the credibly stacked table, Spock put on a music cassette with the easy familiarity of someone who knew is way around.

The meal was pleasant although slightly strained. For once, McCoy could not think of much to say and it was Jim who kept most of the conversation going, telling him of his and Spock’s plans when the ‘Enterprise’ reach Ziron. Apparently, they intended to hire a cottage by the sea-shore.

“We’ll sunbathe on the warm shore and swim naked in the sea.” Jim ended with a happy smile. 

McCoy laughed. “Naked? In the SEA?!”

“An excellent experience.” Spock put in. “You should try it some time.”

“No thanks! And I’m more than surprised at you, Spock! You can even get into trouble in the ‘Enterprise’ pool, let alone the ocean!”

“He does okay,” Jim put in. “one day I may enter him for the Starfleet swimming gala. We could do with more sports trophies in the main rec-room cabinet. Look, when we’ve finished eating, let’s get more comfortable. Another drink, Bones?”

//What happens next?// McCoy thought //A threesome??//

He pushed the thought away, as they settled comfortably with their drinks. Now, it seemed, both Jim and Spock wanted to tell him something.

“So, what’s happening?” he asked easily and ambiguously. “Anything exciting?”

That seemed to help. “Bones, we have something tell you.” Jim began at last. “We want to tell you because you are our friend.”

McCoy took a pull of his scotch. “I’m listening.”

Surprisingly, Spock began first. “Jim and I are bonded.”

So, it had come at last. And now it had, McCoy wasn’t sure how he felt. Not jealous, as he had feared. It was warmth, the feeling of being wanted, of sharing with them something that was so private and precious. Right then, he felt proud to be their friend, and so very privileged.

“Go ahead,” he invited easily.

“The physical side of our relationship is only a small part of what we feel for each other, Bones.” Jim continued. “It is important, we cannot deny that. The bonding was the final step. It is forever. We feel that deeply for each other.”

There was a long hiatus.

“Bones?” Jim promoted anxiously and he smiled.

“Well, I can’t say I haven’t noticed that something happened to you two. These past few weeks, you’ve both been … well, different. Happier, maybe? I dunno, difficult to say exactly. But if you expect me to pass judgement or something, I guess you’ve got the wrong guy. You are both adults. You know exactly what you’re getting into, and you know all the problems as well as I do. I’m no preacher. Of morals, or relationships.

“So?” Jim prompted again. 

McCoy held up his glass. “So here’s to the both of you!” he toasted sincerely. “You have love, courage and understanding.” He grinned, then relaxed. 

What the hell had he been worried about? They were okay, these two. If they had found happiness together, then he certainty was not about to put them down. He lifted his glass in another toast.

“Jim, Spock, good luck to you both. May you find peace, love and live long and prosper.”

Spock gave him a rare smile. Then, he leaned forward touched his hand. “We will, Bones.” He said quietly, and McCoy knew in his heart, they would do just that.


	8. Sailing

Kirk snuggled closer to his bond mate, relishing the closeness of Spock’s body against his own. Lazily, his eyes took in the seemingly endless vista of mountains, beach and sea. The three days they had spent on Ziron had been so beautiful. Now, all too soon, it was almost over.

“I wish,” Kirk said, “this could last forever.”

Spock smiled that small Vulcan smile, placing an arm around him.

“Jim, you are sometime so illogical.”

“But it’s nice to wish all the same.”

“You would become bored.”

He chuckled. “With you. Never!”

“And you would miss the Enterprise.”

“Well…maybe, just a little.” He conceded, then grinned and stretched. “But you would be compensation enough.”

“I doubt that.” Spock said seriously and Kirk quickly broke the mood as he laughed, rolled over, and pinned his friend’s arms, imprisoning him on the warm sand.

“Dumb head! I love you! Any place with you and I’d be happy!”

He kissed Spock hard and teasingly on his mouth, then released him and scrambled to his feet.  
“Cummon! Let’s go swimming!”

“I think not.” There was mock disapproval in Spock’s voice.

“Don’t be a spoil-sport! Please, just once!”

“No, Jim.”

“Then I’ll sulk.”

“So sulk,” Spock offered magnanimously, stretching out his long body.

“And,” Kirk continued, “I will not make love to you tonight.”

Spock sat up slowly, leaning on one elbow, not really successful in maintaining a blank expression. The corners of his mouth twitched with the effort not to smile.

“Blackmail, James Tiberius Kirk is despicable!”

“But if it works, it’s worth it! Come on, Spock!”

Spock relented. Hand in hand they raced along the sun-warmed beach and into the sparkling ocean until they were waist deep. Kirk broke free of Spock’s grasp and struck out strongly, knowing that Sock could never catch him up. After a few minutes, he flip-turned and swam back to the labouring Vulcan, crushing him to his chest in an enthusiastic bear-hug of an embrace.

“I love you! I love you! I love you!” he laughed, kissing him hard on the mouth. “Mmm…especially when you are wet and salty. Hmm.”

Kirk kissed Spock again and this time, Spock responded, parting his lips to allow Kirk’s entry. In the silky waters of the ocean, their organs responded to each other as playfulness turned into desire for each other. Through their bond, their longing to be caressed communicated itself, becoming stronger, more urgent.

Kirk broke free. Easily, he floated, looking down at his erection before he clasped Spock’s hand.  
“Make me, come. Here, now.”

Spock looked at him, and he thought he would melt beneath that gaze. Spock moved, placed a supportive arm under Kirk’s body and lowered his head to take Spock’s swollen cock in his mouth. At first, he snuffled as water got up his nose, but soon, he seemed not to care.

Kirk watched as though he was in a beautiful dream, water, caressing him gently. Spock, who was managing to do sensual, exciting things to his body. Sand…Sea…Mountains.

Spock! Iloveyou,Iloveyou,Iloveyou…

He came, almost explosively, the urgent movement of his body churning the water into foam. Afterwards, still somewhat floating, he rested for a few seconds, basking in the pleasant warmth of the sun and spent love. Then he turned to Spock.

“Your turn, Vulcan Warrior!” he invited, but Spock shook his head, blushing a delicate shade of green.

“Too late, Jim. I…I enjoyed watching you.”

Kirk hid his disappointment. “Don’t blush, silly Vulcan! I LIKE you watching me. Hey, you’re shivering. Let’s get back to the beach.”

On the sand once more they stretched out in the sun, sleepily soaking up the warmth, their fingers touching in what had become a tender ritual of their love. Finger-tip sensation was something new to Kirk. With it, he could feel within his mind their strong, sure bond of their love.

The sun was going down below the horizon as they strolled back to the cottage, hand in hand. They showered, shrugged on bathrobes and set to make a meal, revelling in the luxury of being able to eat fresh vegetables bought from the little village behind the cottage that morning.

Kirk, in a romantic frame of mind, lit the incense candles they had brought, and turned off the artificial lighting. The candles gave a soft glow. The perfume of the incense spiralled upwards in white smoke filling the room with sweetness. They lingered over the meal, enjoying the feeling of intimacy and togetherness. It was only reluctantly that they finally moved. Spock, as tidy as ever, began to clear the table. Kirk caught his hand.

“Let the dishes go hang! We can clear up tomorrow. Let’s go up to bed.”

“Jim, it will take a mere three minutes to put the dishes in the machine.”

“Three minutes! Three whole minutes wasted! Screw the bloody dishes!” he grinned. “Second thoughts! Screw me! So to bed, my horny Vulcan! Tonight we’re going to make every second count. Every single beautiful second.”

“Jim…”

Decisively, Kirk blew out the candles, grabbed Spock’s hand and led him through the darkness to the bedroom.

Next morning, Kirk suggested they skip breakfast, anxiously to be out: to squeeze every last second of their leave. Besides, he had a surprise for Spock, and when they reached the beach, it was there, exactly where he had arranged with the villager he had hired it from. H gave an expansive gesture.

“Well, Spock! What do you think of her?”

Spock stared. “Jim…” he said slowly as truth dawned. “…We do not how to sail! I am not going aboard that sailing dingy..”

“You ARE! And we’ll learn together! Where’s your Vulcan curiosity? Come on, we’ll soon get the hang of it. If we can ride a Starship, we must be able to ride that teeny weeney boat!”

Filled with enthusiasm to try something new, Kirk race along the sand and began to push the little boat out onto the water, knowing that Spock’s curiosity would soon get the better of him. Sure enough, before the boat was even fully afloat, he felt the strain on his arms lessen as Spock lent his strength to the task.

Sailing was not as easy as Kirk had imagined, and between them, they almost managed to overturn the boat, and when that crisis was over, they found themselves going round in ever-decreasing circles. Eventually, it was Spock who worked out the mechanics and after that, it was a fun experience for both of them. The little craft skimmed across the blue surface of the water, the wind ruffling their hair and sprayed them with tangy, salt-laden sea. It was a magical morning, and when they finally returned to the shore, they sat together on the beach, their arms around each other, enjoying the last of their leave with a glorious sunset.

Even so, it was good to return to the ‘Enterprise’, where familiarity enfolded them with warmth.

//Spock’s right,// Kirk thought as he settled into the command chair. //All the beauty of the universe could not compare with the intense feeling I have for my ship. Without her, life would lose meaning.// He sneaked a glance at Spock, smiling to himself. All he ever wanted! His life complete!

“Take her out of here, Mr Sulu. Warp factor two.”

“Aye, Aye, Sir.”

Throbbing life. Myriad stars, each merging with the other. It felt so good. So godammed good…!

 

When the ‘Enterprise’ received a priority one distress call from the tiny planet of Iota, requesting supplies of Ryetalin to combat an outbreak of Rigellian Fever, Kirk immediately responded to the call. But on their arrival, the landing party found no trace of Rygellian Fever.

Instead, they were ambushed by a Klingon raiding party. Only McCoy, his nurse and a medical orderly escaped the vicious attack. Any by the time re-enforcements, headed by Commander Spock beamed down, Captain Kirk had gone and there was no trace of either him or his abductors.


	9. Search for Kirk

McCoy was never exactly certain what happened during most of those seven days that Jim was missing. Of course, the immediate area was searched on foot and aboard the ‘Enterprise’, with the aid of the sensors.

Spock undertook the major part of the fruitless search, allowing no-one to interfere or even suggest helping him. It was as though he blamed himself: for not being there instead of Jim.

Outwardly, he remained calm, despite the terrible tension all around him. But inside, McCoy knew, he was burning himself out with his frantic efforts to find Jim. He did not sleep, did not eat, and did not pause for one single break, as he sat in front of the scanner read-outs which gave him planet wide data of the whole terrain.

After three complete days while the whole crew stood by on red alert for fear of another Klingon attach on the ‘Enterprise’ herself, McCoy had grave doubts that Jim could be still alive. The Klingons were notorious for appalling treatment of prisoners, especially one as important as a Starship Captain.

Privately, McCoy was grief-stricken. Jim Kirk had been the best friend a man could have, and he wept bitter tears in the privacy of his own room, he had grave doubts that Jim could be still alive. Publicly, he put on a brave face somehow, if only for Spock’s morale. Sooner or later, the Vulcan would realise that Jim was dead: that he would never come back to claim his ship. When that time came, he would need all the support he could get.

On the third night, Spock came to him; gaunt, thin, his hollow eyes burning with the fever inside of him.

“I have detected a subterranean complex of caverns, the only logical place for the Klingons to be. I require stimulants for myself and medical equipment for Jim.”

“Spock, you can’t risk the lives of a landing party. Jim would never condone that.”

“I go alone.”

“That’s even more ridiculous! One man against god-knows-how many Klingons? Jim would never expect that of you, Spock, risking your life for his. You’re too precious to him…” 

He pulled himself up abruptly and offered Spock a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know, Spock, I know. I too share your grief. And believe me; I’d go with you if you asked me to. I mean that…” He swallowed hard against the rising tide of emotion. It was Spock’s turn to be gentle.

“Thank you, Bones. If I thought it would help, I would ask you. But I cannot endanger any life but my own. Jim would not ask that of me. I must go alone.”

“Spock, he’s been missing for three days. Klingons are not known for their gentle ways. Jim could be dead.”

“But he is not.”

“So certain?”

“Yes. I am bonded to him. I can feel his pain, his suffering. But he is not dead. If he were, I …I would certainly know…”

The slight hesitation in Spock’s voice was almost as though he had been going to say something else. McCoy shuddered as he realised exactly what that might have been. That Spock would ALSO DIE!

And there was also an unspoken statement too: that if Jim died, Spock would welcome his own death too. That he would not want to live. Savagely, McCoy blinked back tears.

“I have instructed Mr Scott to remain in orbit for precisely four standard days. If I have not returned with Jim y then, he must take the ‘Enterprise’ to the nearest Starbase. All I now require of you are the certain articles I have requested.”

Spock’s voice was coldly efficient now. Silently, McCoy provided the stimulants and medical supplies, packed in a back-pack. Impulsively, he took Spock’s hands. “Come back with him, Spock.”

Briefly, Spock inclined his head. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.  
It was an agony of waiting after that. Hours and days of sleeplessness, terrible anxiety and a sense of loss so overwhelming McCoy became too numbed to think straight. Spock’s own time limit came and went. One hour…two… A tense, sober face Scotty came to tell him they could wait no longer. The ‘Enterprise’ orbit was beginning to decay. He could not risk over four hundred lives. There was no choice but to accept the decision. Scotty, and the rest of the crew – especially the bridge crew – were just as screwed up about it, and there was a general air of despondency throughout the entire shop as she was prepared to move out, leaving her two most senior officers on the planet below.  
And then it came!

Suddenly, unexpectedly, at the last dying minutes of their final orbit. It was a whoop of joy from the transporter officer at the other end of the intercom; McCoy could not believe his ears.

“Repeat that, Ensign!”

“We’ve got them! Captain Kirk and Mr Spock. We need a medical team here, urgently!”

“On our way!” McCoy assured him, and ran.

Hope now mingled with a new kind of despair: a new desperation to keep Jim Kirk alive in the days that followed. Spock too was badly injured and had lapsed into unconsciousness while still on the transported pad. Judging from the Vulcans wounds, he too had been in the hands of the Klingons for he numerous injuries: massive, bodily bruising, burns to his feet and hands, blood encrusted marks of his writs and inner elbow, which looked as though he had been injected intravenously.  
At least Spock’s injuries were not life-threatening. A few days in Sickbay, a few hours in a healing-trance, and Spock would recover.

But Jim’s injuries were far more serious and McCoy knew he was close to death. Fractured ribs had punctured a lung, resulting in a pneumothorax collapse, which needed immediate action to re-inflate the lung. The spleen had ruptured and was haemorrhaging in the abdominal cavity. Peritonitis now complicated the long surgery sessions McCoy and his team performed, which included a splenectomy, as the organ was too damaged to repair.

The least that could be said about Jim Kirk, was that he was still alive, still on the brink of death.  
Twenty-four hours later, Spock came out of his trance, still stiff, groggy and in considerable pain, but well enough to give a brief outline of what had happened. He was reluctant to give full details. Obviously and understandably, it was still hurtful for him to remember how badly Jim had been tortured. Nor would he speak of his own bravery, for Spock was tight lipped about that. McCoy did not press him, knowing he would give a factual report to Starfleet HQ, and would want no official recognition in saving his captain.

One piece of information he provided, however solved, in part, the mystery of the injection marks that both be and Jim bore witness too. The Klingons had administered a powerful halogenic drug. It had not affected Spock, perhaps because his Vulcan dominance. But from the description, Spock gave McCoy concerning Jim’s reaction to it; his mind had been blown apart. Worse, he was now probably addicted to it, which explained his violent rigours, the vomiting and the periods of deep mental confusion and cerebral agitation.

It was not difficult to isolate the substance in the blood of both Spock and Jim. What it was, no-one could identify but much to McCoy’s relief, the standard drug-aversion therapies gave relief slowly to the symptoms of addiction.

Jim’s condition improved very slowly after that, and McCoy knew he could claim all the credit. It was Spock who sat with him hour after hour, bathing his face when it was wet with sweat, easing the pain through the bond, patiently soothing away from the horrors which Jim’s mind seemed to be suffering – Spock even – with McCoy’s permission – lay down beside Jim on the bio-bed, holding him in his arms. By the time Spock was well enough to be discharge from medical care; Jim was well out of danger, and physically recovering from his injuries and surgery.

But mentally, he was far from recovered, and McCoy could only guess at the horrors inside his friends mind. For most of the time he was confused and agitated, hitting out at anyone except Spock and McCoy who tried to help him. His periods of lucidity came only when Spock could be with him. His period of lucidity came only when Spock could be with him, and it was hard for McCoy not to allow jealousy to creep in now and then. They were so close. So one with each other. A rapport that was unusual and so beautiful. When they touched, Jim became peaceful for a precious time, free from the horror that was turning his mind into a prisoner. Yet clearly, things could not continue as they were. Jim required expert and intensive help that was unavailable on a Starship. Four weeks after rescue, McCoy called Spock to his office.

“Spock, Jim needs psychotherapy, and far more of it than we can give on the ‘Enterprise’. And if he’s to recover completely, then the sooner the better. In my opinion, he’s suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. God alone knows what he suffered at the hands of those bloody Klingons!”

“I do!”

“Yeah. Sure you do, I’m sorry.” He sighed, wishing to hell that Spock would somehow react. But, for now, his ‘Vulcan mask’ was pulled up tight. “Look Jim’s sick. We get to Starbase Nine in three days, who works there, and he’s specialized in PTSD”

“Cancel it.”

“WHAT? Now, listen here you pointy eared hob.”

“I too have reserved a…place for him. In two point five days we’ll be passing over Vulcan. I was going to inform you.”

Somehow, McCoy quelled his anger. “Gee, thanks! And what the hell do you think they’ll achieve on Vulcan! Of all places.”

“The place is my own home, Doctor. My parents have already agreed, and there is an excellent MediCentre in Shikar, of which Jim can make full use.”

“Your own home…” The anger left him. Maybe it was not such a bad idea after all. Peaceful at least. Away from all that would remind Jim of the ordeal he had been through. Gentle, soothing, Amanda, an excellent nurse no doubt. Don’t go a bomb on Sarek, but at least he’s cool, calm and collected.

“Your home, eh? Yes, maybe that would work! We must give it a try, Spock.”

At last, Spock cracked his mask. Briefly, he nodded. “Please excuse me. I will make the final arrangements.”

Thoughtfully, McCoy watched him depart, and then reluctantly turned back to his desk and the mound of usual paperwork


	10. The Vulcan Home

The pleasant aroma of breakfast aroused Kirk from sleep, and soon, as the final shreds of his vivid dream dissipated, he got up and gazed out of the windows to view the fiery dawn, something that filled him with a great sense of wonder.

The dream, he realized, as he stood there, had been the same for several nights. He was along in his ‘Enterprise’ quarters. Suddenly, the door would open.

He had never seen the face of the man framed in the doorway; he knew it was Spock, for he was filled with an overwhelming aura of love and peace.

Much different to his black, terrible nightmares on his arrival to Vulcan, when the horrors in the Klingon hands had all but overwhelmed him. When, in his moods of absolute despair he would scream uncontrollably as he relived again and again the tortures and brutally he’d suffered. When all he could do was cling helplessly to Amanda, until she soothed and comforted him, or Sarek gave him temporary peace by a gentle touch with his long, slim fingers onto his forehead.

It had been, he’d discovered, the idea of Spock to bring him here, and it had been proved a wise decision. The tranquillity of the Vulcan home, and the immense amount of caring from both Sarek and Amanda had helped him to regain his mental health. Black moods and nightmares still surfaced occasionally, but he could deal with them now. Sarek taught him simple mind control, and had been able to restart mediation, and Amanda gave him the warmth and security of genuine love.  
Finally dressed in the now familiar day tunic and black pants, he slipped his bare feet into sandals and descended the stairs. Over the three months of his stay, he had learned not to take them two at a time. Decorum was expected in a Vulcan hose-hold. He grinned, wondering how Spock would react to the Vulcan niceties he had acquired.

In the Family Room, Sarek was already seated and unusually starting his breakfast without his wife and guest. He looked up to acknowledge Jim over a sheaf of papers. Reading at the table was one of Sarek’s bad habits.

“Good morning, Jim.”

“Good morning, Sir.”

“Please sit down. Excuse my haste. I do have a pressing appointment I would have done without breakfast, but…” A familiar twinkle came into the soft, brown eyes “…you know what Amanda is. She would have nagged me for the rest of the day.”

“At least I have no trouble in persuading Jim to eat!” Amada said lightly, as she came from the kitchen with two platefuls of fruit pancakes. She gave one plate to Kirk, and then settled into her own chair with the other. Sarek gave a shrug, and then continued with his reading and his own breakfast.  
Kirk hungrily attacked his own, surveying Sarek out of the corner of his eye. He had come to like and admire Ambassador Sarek immensely, a sharp contrast to when he had first come into contact with him. Then, he had seemed aloof and arrogant. But that had been his ambassadorial image. Within the privacy of his own home, he was a gentle caring man, with a subtle sense of humour and a loving devotion to his wife.

Soon, Sarek patted his papers into a neat pile and stood up.

“I must depart. I do not expect to return late.” Gently, he touched Amanda’s fingers in the Vulcan equivalent of a kiss. “Keep the hearth-flame burning brightly,” he said ritualistically.

“It will burn brightly for you, my husband.” She replied. “Now please go before you are late! And drive safely!”

Sarek departed. Soon, his air-car could be heard gliding away. Amanda turned to Kirk.

“Did you sleep well, Jim?”

“Very well.”

“No more nightmares?”

“No more horrors, thanks to you and Sarek. In fact, I had a pleasant dream about Spock.”

If Amanda was embarrassed, she did not show it. Affectionately, he squeezed her arm.

“I feel just great now. God only knows what would have happened had it not been for you. I can never repay you.”

“Your health is our repayment, Jim, really. The peace of Vulcan has a lot to recommend it.”

They both finished their breakfast. It was Amanda who broke the companionable silence.

“We’ll both miss you when you return to your ship, Jim. I guess we’ve both come to regard you as our second son.”

Kirk felt a surge of warmth. “You honour me. Far more than I deserve.”

Suddenly, Amanda became unusually flustered, and started to bustle to cover up her embarrassment. “I must get going! No time to sit staring in the hyperspace!”

“Here, let me help you.”

“Certainly not! You are our guest!”

“Your son, remember? Surely, even Vulcan sons help their Mom with the chores!”

“Not when they’ve been sick. And they are all obedient children … Well, except mine! Spock was always the exception, and it looks like you are too!”

They both laughed, and Kirk hugged her impulsively. “Amanda, I love you!”

“And I love you, James Kirk, most deeply.”

“Spock loves you too. It’s just that he finds it difficult to put into words.”

She kissed him on the cheek, and then pushed him away. “Go away!” she ordered lightly. “Otherwise I might cry and I would hate to explain away red eyes to Sarek!”

Deliberately, Kirk stacked some of the dishes into the machine. Then…

“Amanda, there is something you should know about Spock and I. We were going to tell you, but … well; I guess that Spock won’t mind.”

Amanda smiled. “I think I know what you are going to tell me, Jim. You and Spock are lovers, right?”  
“How did you …”

“Oh, I guessed months ago.”

“And you didn’t want to discuss it?”

“No. Not until you were ready.”

“We did not want to hurt you. Believe me that is the last thing we ever wanted.”

“Nor have you. Oh, I suppose I was shocked just a little when I first realised. Not in the moral sense. Not even because it happened to my Son. I have known long, long ago that Spock has no interest in women. Funny. Guess I was more worried about you.”

She finished bustling. “Every parent hopes their child will discover happiness, Jim. Yet for nearly forty years, I had to endure Spock’s very personal intense misery, not knowing how I could heal the torture. How to help him. Then you came along. Jim, believe me, you were the answer to all my hopes. You have given him to so much. How can I ever deny my beloved son that?”

“Spock gives me much too!”

“Then I rejoice for you both, my dear.”

“Tell me, what does Sarek think?”

“Why not ask Sarek?”

“Oh, come on Amanda, you surely have some idea!”

“Now Jim, surely you don’t expect me to discuss Sarek’s views? He’ll express himself well enough. And you know him well enough to realize that he is not as intimidating as his public image suggests. In fact, I think you understand him far better than Spock ever did! And that is a compliment.”

“I do admire Sarek,” he admitted, and she smiled.

“Don’t worry, Jim. Sarek is an expert exponent of that most sacred of all principles ---IDIC. And he’s fully aware that Spock has something good happen to him for a long time.”

“Y’know, two … even one year ago I would’ve said that this conversation was impossible, then that is it.”

Amanda took his hand into her own. “No need to justify love, Jim. Just hold onto it. Rejoice in it. And now ...” she pushed his away. “Will you get the hell out of my kitchen and let me get on with my chores!”

He hung around for a while, hoping to get a tape from Spock. It had been some weeks since he had heard from him, and he was hungry for news: longing to hear his voice, but the mail came and all it contained was his salary advance and a tax demand, both forwarded from Starfleet HQ. Finally, he decided to make himself scare and walk into the city of Shikahr.

He was now thoroughly familiar with the beautiful and ancient city, and enjoyed the walk. By now, he had become acclimatized to the thin atmosphere and the heat. Shikahr was such a tranquil place and it had done much to ease his torment in the earlier part of his story.

But now he was fully recovered, he felt restless and anxious to return to the ‘Enterprise’ and to Spock.

After he stopped off at the Vulcan banker to pay his tax demand, he went to the library, one of his favourite haunts. There was an excellent language programme in the main com-bank and over this sojourn he had good working knowledge of conversational Vulcan – a surprise for Spock who had despaired of teaching him the difficult language. As he keyed in the programme he wanted, he smiled to himself, wondering what new dimension his newly acquired linguistic skills would add to their love-making.

His mind wandered. It had been so long since he and Spock had made love and for the past few nights, he had been filled with floods of desire. To touch, caress, tantalise, love: to take Spock into his arms and overwhelm him with his pent up emotions. Fantasising, however, only served to increase his longing and frustration. Although he’d tried masturbation, it did not fill the chasm. He needed Spock now, with the whole of his being.

“Aus – auk – aul – aum …”

Goddam these Vulcan adverbs! He tried to hide his grin as his thoughts ran riot. Did Spock lie in bed at night jerking himself off? Hell no! Vulcan didn’t … did they? Spock had never said whether they did or not. Wickedly, he tried to imagine the solemn librarian doing it. Barely stifling a chuckle, then decided enough was definitely enough. He could get the adverbs through his head later.

At home once more, Amanda heard him enter.

“Hi there! Had a good morning?”

“Yes thanks.” What would she think of his fantasies?

“Care for something to eat? I have good prepared.”

He accepted the welcome invitation and followed her into the kitchen, remembering how surprised he’d been when he first saw Spock’s home. He had not expected something quite so … so ordinary, for such a wealth and influential family. An ancient castle, perhaps? A stately home? But that would not have been logical. A Vulcan home was the epicentre of family life, and not intended to be a showpiece. It was in bad taste to openly display wealth and social standing.

Amanda set a bowl of grain and vegetables at his elbow. “What are you thinking of? Your Enterprise?”

“No. Of how pleasant your home is. I love it here.”

“Thank you. That is a compliment both here and on Earth.”

“My brother Sam and I never had much of a home. Mom and Dad never got on well. They shipped us off to school as soon as we were old enough. We often didn’t go home for vacations. Dad died some years ago, I still don’t communicate with Mom frequently. We were never close. Strange, isn’t it? The first home I’ve ever had is here on Vulcan with you and Sarek… No offence!”

“None taken, Jim. I understand. And I’m glad you like it here.”

He ate thoughtfully. Eventually, Amanda said. “I sense a restlessness in you now. You are ready to return to your ‘Enterprise/”

“My work, my other love. My iron maiden. Yes, I need her now.”  
They heard the sound of Sarek’s air-car coming to a halt. Amanda seemed flustered. “Excuse me. I must let Sarek in.”

Before Kirk could say that there was no need to ‘let in’ anyone … there were no locks on Vulcan homes … she was gone. Shrugging, he finished his meal, listening to the pleasant sound of domesticity in the hallway. Soon afterwards, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow in the threshold of the doorway… A shadow too long and rangy to be that of Sarek. He whipped round, not bothering to hide his joy. 

“Spock!”

Impulsively, he ran forward to hug his bond-mate, but at the last minute came to a half, confused, His arms falling to his sides. Spock’s attitude was stiff and formal. His eyes flashed a ‘do not touch me!’ message.

Hurt at the obvious rebuff, and aching with longing to touch him after so long apart, but embarrassed by his show of emotion in front of Sarek, he backed off. All those weeks on Vulcan had taught him some measure of control.

“You look well, Captain.”

Captain? So formal?

“Oh … er … yes. And you?”

“As ever.” Spock replied shortly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I did not think it would be necessary. Excuse me. I would like to change.”

Spock turned on his heels and departed upstairs rapidly, leaving Kirk to stare after him helplessly. In the wake of his son’s departure, Sarek coughed politely, attempting to ease the obvious tension.

“Doctor McCoy sends his regards Jim. He has some business to attend to at the Medicentre. He will be here before nightfall. Amanda and I have planned a special dinner tonight. You are all most welcome.”

“Oh … yes. Thank you, sir.”

Still badly hurt, he vaguely heard Amanda and Sarek making subdued arrangements for the evening. Obviously, they too were hurt by their son’s attitude and did not want to discuss it in front of him. Realizing he would be better of making himself scare, he miserably climbed the stairs.  
To get to his own room, he had to pass Spock’s. He almost walked by, but when he saw the door ajar he could not resist entering. Spock was stretched out on the bed and did not even turn his head.

“All this time on Vulcan should have taught you the importance of privacy.” He snapped huskily. “You are violating mine.”

“All this time without you has taught me how much I have missed you and need you.”

“Please leave!”

“But why?” he pleaded. “At least tell me why? You owe me that.”

Silence, Kirk dared not touch him. Dared not fight against inevitable rejection. Spock seemed lost to him. Even through their bond, there was no communication. Spock’s mind was utterly closed to him. ‘Hopefully, dear God, not forever’. He sighed deeply.

“Have it you own way for the present, Spock,” he said resignedly, “But promise me one thing, and I want no of your shit about promises being illogical! This evening is kinda special to your parents. Please don’t spoil it for them. Promise me that.”

Perceptibly, Spock nodded. At least satisfied with that, Kirk began to leave. At the door, he turned back briefly, Spock too turned his head, and there was a suspicion of very genuine tears in his eyes.   
Choked, Kirk fled into the lonely security of his own room.

In the silence, now overwhelming, where he had spent many bitter childhood hours, Spock no longer bothered to control his emotion. The tears flowed, soaking the pillow on who he laid his head.


	11. The Secret

Two hours later, a light tap came on Kirk’s door. He knew instinctively that it was not Spock.

“Come,” he called dully.

It was McCoy who entered.

“Bones!”

“Jim!”

At least there was no restrain at this meeting. They hugged each other, absorbing the warmth and friendship. Eventually, McCoy held him at arm’s length.

“Hey, Jim, you look great! Vulcan air must have something to recommend it after all, Goddamit!”

“I feel great, really. Last I did until … Well, just ready now to get back to my ‘Enterprise’, if you sign me off as fit. How is my silver lady, Bones?”

“As demanding as ever. And missing you like hell. Guess we all are. We were able to come here because Scotty needed some repairs to something or other.”

“And Spock? Does he miss me?”

For the first time he saw lines of worry on McCoy’s face. But the doctor was giving nothing away. 

“Especially Spock.” He paused, biting his lip. “Jim, he’s been under a lot of strain lately. Trying missions, commend he never wanted, his ordeal with the Klingons, the worry over your health. He needs to adjust, that’s all. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Bones, you only just walked in. How did you know there was something wrong between us?”  
McCoy covered from his momentary confusion. “I’m a psychologist, remember? ‘Sides, he’s been wound up so tight these past few weeks. Tension never does much to that sensitive hide of his. Like I said, just give him time.”

By now, Kirk was utterly convinced that there was something more serious going on that McCoy was letting on to. His stomach tied into knots, and he forced himself to somehow relax.

“Tell me what’s happening aboard the Enterprise?” he asked, changing the subject, and McCoy settled down to recount the adventures of the Starship and her crew.

Kirk prepared himself meticulously for the evening. As it was a family occasion, he discarded the thought of wearing his dress uniform and chose instead his favourite blue and white Vulcan tunic and white pants. He was now used to wearing Vulcan clothes which were simple, practical and suited to the climate.

“Pretty!” McCoy purred when he came in. “If it wasn’t for the shape of your ears, you’d pass for a Vulcan any day. So help me, it suits you!”

“Thanks.” He offered an arm. “Care to accompany me to the ball?”

“Hey, watch that, Vulcan Warrior!” McCoy quipped, not realising that the inadvertent nickname had caused Kirk pain. “This Southern Gentleman is strictly heterosexual. However, as there is no Cinderella to escort me, I guess you’ll do! Lead on!”

Spock and his father were already in the family room when the two humans arrived. Both were wearing their clan togas, which highlighted both the importance of this occasion and their masculinity. Despite what had happened earlier, Kirk felt a surge of longing to hug Spock close to him, but suppressed the longing savagely. Both Sarek and Spock looked somewhat subdued now, although Sarek greeted his guests with his usual warmth and courtesy. Ever the diplomat, he was anxious to put them at their ease. Spock’s face was strained, his eyes slightly puffy. Had he been …crying?

As the meal progressed, however, the atmosphere definitely relaxed and even Spock seemed to mellow somewhat. At one point in the proceedings, Kirk met Spock’s eyes. Empathy flowed at last, and Kirk was able to relax.

After the meal, Sarek excused himself. He returned shortly afterwards with a beautifully wrapped parcel.  
“Jim, this is for you. Amanda and I have come to regard you as our second son. You ARE Spock’s brother. We want you to accept this gift. It is our token of family acceptance.”

At first all Kirk could do was to stare, first at Sarek, then at the parcel, overwhelmed with a sudden surge of emotion at the completely unexpected gesture.

“Take it, Jim.” Amanda prompted gently.

Awkwardly, he took it and opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was his very own clan toga. Choked, he found himself lost for words. Again, Amanda came to his rescue.

“Put it on, Jim. We have accepted you in our family now. You are our son: Spock’s brother. You have the right to wear it.”

The beautiful toga fitted him perfectly. The Clan symbol, a bird of prey, was embroidered onto the chest in gold thread. A work of art: a gift of love: of sharing. At last, he found his voice.

“I will always wear it with honour. Thank you.”

“I have utmost confidence in that statement,” Sarek said warmly.

“We must end the evening in the traditional Vulcan way, with music. Spock – my lyrette please. You must play the piano, since you mastered the art better than I, thanks to your Mother. Jim, Doctor McCoy, the choice of music is yours, since you are our guests. What will it be? Chopin? Zanousi?”

“You choose, Jim.” McCoy invited, and kirk, although he’s had absolutely no idea that Spock could play the piano, chose something he knew Spick liked.

And indeed, his bond mate really could play! Combined with piano and lyrette, the music helped to lose himself in the rippling, beautiful cadences of sound.

 

It was late when he woke up next morning, remembering with warmth what had happened the evening before. By the time he had washed, shaved and dressed, both Sarek and Amanda had left for work at the Science Academy, and McCoy had gone to the Medicentre.

Spock was ‘drinking’ breakfast’ of fruit juice in the kitchen when Kirk arrived. At first, Kirk hesitated, wondering if he would again initiate rejection, but Spock looked up.

“Good morning.”

“Hi!” he said as casually as he could, noting the strained quality to Spock’s voice. So maybe McCoy was correct, he thought hopefully, that he needed time to adjust. Yet in his heart, he knew there was no reason, just an excuse on the part of McCoy. Something had happened, he was certain of it.   
Almost trembling, he poured himself a gloss of Kanu milk.

“I wish someone had told me about last night, Spock. It came as such a wonderful surprise. I’m sure I made a fool of myself.”

“You did not.” Cause the quiet reassurance.

“Did you know?”

“Of course. Family acceptance is a Family affair. My parents consulted me. I apologise for all of us if you we offended you in any way.”

“Oh no, you didn’t. I was honoured – and flattered really I was. Your parents mean so much to me, Spock. And you, especially you.”

He was disappointed that Spock did not respond. He watched as Spock finished his juice, mentally searching through their bond. There was none. Spock’s mind was closed to him.

“I have an appointment in the city.” The Vulcan said shortly.

“I’ll go with you. I could do with a walk.”

“It is a private appointment.”

The hurt intensified. Somehow, he controlled it. “Suit yourself!” he snapped, and walked away.

He could not bear to remain in the house. His thoughts crowded in on him too much, working overtime. There seemed to be absolutely no logical explanation to Spock’s behaviour. And what hurt even more, was the rejection. Rejection without reason. Suddenly, he felt so lost and lonely,  
Eventually, he went out, not caring for the silence, and he walked through the city precincts without purpose, always he thought, without direction when Spock was not by his side. Lonely, only half a man.

On impulse, he went through to the Medicentre to wait for McCoy, realizing he needed companionship but not knowing really what to say. Not wanting to disturb the doctor, or have him paged, he sat down in reception, feeling stupid at his sudden need to be with someone.

//Dammit, James T, you’re insecure! Edgy and tense like a kid getting over his first crush.//

He saw McCoy coming towards him, in deep conversation with a Vulcan medic. Neither of them saw him. They stopped at Reception to finish their conversation. McCoy looked tired and drawn. The worry lines on his craggy face had increased since the evening before.

“I would be grateful to have the lab results as soon as possible.” McCoy was saying.

“I will contact you at Ambassador Sarek’s house.”

“Only I must be informed of the results, you understand? Commander Spock is my patient. With a possible terminal condition, it would be unwise to involve too many physicians.”

“I will inform only you. Good day to you, Doctor McCoy.”

The Vulcan departed. Kirk was rooted to his seat, unable to move, his mind reeling dizzily. Terminal condition? And McCoy was talking about Spock!

Suddenly, everything clicked into place, like the solution to the puzzle. The rejection … the reluctance to make bodily contact … the way Spock had shut him out of their bond.  
Terminal? Spock … DYING?

As though he was part of some crazy charade, he saw Spock emerge from one of the rooms and hurry to catch up with McCoy as though the meeting had been prearranged. They both strode away without seeing him.

“Are you waiting for someone?” came the cold inquiry of the Receptionist.

“Oh ... guessed he must have missed me.” Kirk managed to stutter before he fled.

He began to run, heedless of the angry stares from passing Vulcans. Minutes later, he had cleared the garden slopes which surrounded the city limits, punishing himself in the heat and atmosphere until he was on the edge of the desert where he pushed himself until he was exhausted. Dropping to his knees in the gritty sand finally, and gasping painfully for breath, oxygen, he realised how foolish he had been. Resting now, he struggled to put his chaotic thoughts into order.

Even after the encounter with the Klingons, he had never really considered death of either himself or Spock as a close reality. The possibility, of course, was always there, but like the majority of humans in dangerous occupations, he had kept that thought in the far corners of his mind. Somehow, and no matter how close in reality, death always seemed so far away.

So far….

Sweet Jesus!

//Stop it! Stop it! For Chrissakes! Talk to McCoy before you drive yourself crazy!//

Recovered now, at least enough to walk home on somewhat trembling legs, he began to make his way back towards the city.

The doctor was reading a taped report in the personal viewer installed din the guest room. He had read the report before – many times – and each time he always hoped that he might have missed something important. But as always, the thing added up to a damned great nothing that would help Spock or himself. As he pushed the viewer away disgustedly, a knock came at the door. Before he called ‘Come’ Jim entered.

McCoy was shocked by his friend’s appearance. He was wet with perspiration, dishevelled and ghastly pale.

“Jim! What the hell…!”

Shrugging off the offer of help, Jim flopped on a chair and mopped sweat from his face.

“Hey, you look like you could do with a drink!”

“Thanks, Bones. Water would be fine.”

Anxious now, McCoy poured him a cup of water, which he gulped at thirstily. Then he looked up sheepishly.

“Sorry.” He said gruffly,

“Don’t mention it. Er… anything I can do? I mean anyone looking like you do and paying a call on your friendly doctor would be ordered immediately to bed. What the hell happened to you?”

“I walked across to the Medicentre to meet you, and I inadvertently heard your conversation with the Vulcan medic.”

//So that was it! Christ, no wonder the poor guy looks awful! What the hell did you say to Doctor Saak at the Medicentre? Terminal? Did I mention that? Damn, Damn and Damn!//

“Bones, I want to know what’s happening! Now!”

//Bloody well told Spock he’d have to know sometime! Couldn’t keep it from him forever!//

“Jim, overhearing half a conversation is like hearing nothing at all!”

“I heard enough! And I want to know NOW! I have a right to know!”

//He’s in a state already. What’ll he do if…?//

“I promised Spock not to tell you. Gave him my word.”

“Which you’re not breaking now. I found out by accident. All I need you to do is give me details. Please, Bones! He’s shut me out I can’t even touch him. Can’t help him.”

McCoy sighed. No point in dressing up the facts. No way to either.

“Okay, if that’s want you really want.” He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Jim, but I can’t let you down gently. Spock’s dying. Not now, maybe not next month. But he is dying. Cell by cell, inch by inch, and so far we’ve not found a goddam thing in the whole shitting universe that can help save him.”

He watched Jim turn ashen before his eyes. He saw the tightly clenched fists, the swaying of his body in the chair he sat on. For a moment, he thought Kirk would pass out, but then he controlled himself.

“How, Bones? Why?”

“Remember those hallucinogenic drugs the Klingons gave you?”

“Vaguely.”

“They treated Spock to them too. Only, they didn’t work like they should do, Trouble is, it set up a chemical reaction in Spock’s body. I won’t give you the details. They are far too complicated and wouldn’t mean much to you anyway. But it’s a reaction that’s slowly killing him, and if we don’t find the solution soon…”

“Does..” Jim’s voice seemed to break. He tried again, “do Sarek and Amanda know?”

“Sarek does. Guess he’ll talk to Amanda in his own way. Better that way.”

Jim looked washed out now. Completely and utterly down. His entire body seemed to sag against the chair back.

“I’m sorry, Jim. More than sorry. Spock is my friend too. All I can offer his my shoulder.”

Jim shook his head savagely. “No!”

“Well for God’s sake do something to get it out of your system. You look like death warmed up. Don’t bottle it up inside. If you want to cry, then cry.”

Jim stood up unsteadily. He looked like he was about to throw up, but when McCoy made a move to help his stricken friend, he was pushed away.

“Scuse me!” he managed to get out, before he ran. McCoy did not follow him. He knew his help would not be welcome, at least for the time being. Jim had to somehow come to terms with it all on his own.

Angry and bitter at his own inabilities to help his two best friends, he snapped the tape back into the viewer, almost viciously. There had to be something!

Goddam it, there had to be!


	12. Despair

Kirk only just made it to the toilet before he was violently sick, and when there was nothing left in his stomach to give up he continued to retch painfully and dryly for what seemed like forever, until the spasms finished,. Dazed and shaken, he rinsed the bitter taste from his mouth, and then stumbled out into the garden.

He had always found such peace in the lovely garden of Amanda’s making, even in the worst of moods. But not now. He could find no peace. No relief from the depths of his grief: the bitterness of despair.

Inch by inch .. cell by cell..

//Sweet Jesus, not Spock! Not this way!//

In a cloud of misery, he returned to the house, and, climbing the stairs, stopped at Spock’s door. 

Without knocking, he entered.

The Vulcan appeared to be sleeping. Very gently, Kirk touched his shoulder, aching to touch him, aching to cry. Spock’s eyes suddenly snapped open, his body automatically recoiling from the touch.

“Hush, Spock, no need. I know.” Even in his desperation he fought to remain calm for his friend’s sake. Spock swallowed hard against the emotion he had so often denied in the past.

“McCoy broke his word…”

“No, I found out by accident. Bones, kept his promise to you.”

“I did not want you to find out in such a way. That is why I withheld the bond with you, until I could tell you.”

“Oh my love, I could not have borne your withdrawal from me any longer. You couldn’t have shut me out for one day more.”

At last, Spock reached out to touch him, his long, slim fingers moved gently across his face like a blind man becoming reacquainted with a long lost love, his lines of tension smoothed away. Watching him, Kirk’s grief finally boiled over. Nestling his head into the crook of Spock’s arm, he wept.

Spock held him tightly, saying nothing, obviously realising the need for him to cry. Just being close to him was comforting. At least, when the tears had finally spent themselves, he felt a whole lot better. 

He looked up sheepishly.

“I’m sorry. I love you, Spock. So much.”

“Be at peace T’hy’la. Hush now. We are One once more. Let us rejoice in that today, we must say ‘hello’ and become reacquainted once more. The future can wait until tomorrow.”

Kirk kissed him ruffling the sleek black hair, now longing to give his friend all the love which had built up inside of him. Spock was right. The future could wait. With mind control he had learned from   
Sarek, he placed thoughts of tomorrow very firmly in the recesses of his mind.

He gave Spock’s hair one final ruffle, then stood up and began to pad around the room. Spock propping himself up on one elbow, eyed him with open humour.

“Jim, what are you doing?”

“Collecting cushions. That bed is too narrow.”

“It was not intended for two.”  
“Exactly!”

Triumphantly, he scattered cushions over the thick carpet. “Throw the quilt across, Spock.”  
Spock never threw anything. He uncoiled himself, carefully removed the quilt and spread it neatly over the cushions. Then, as his own preliminary gesture, removed his shirt. Discarding it with a neatness that made Kirk smile. He too stripped off his tunic, slung it carelessly someplace, and eased himself onto the makeshift bed with a contented sigh.

“Come here, you beautiful beast!”

“An unfortunate phrase, James Kirk!”

“But you are beautiful! Here, come to me. Let’s hold each other very closely. It’s been too long.”

Spock stretched out beside him, the tangy masculine Vulcan odour exciting him. Lovingly, they hugged each other, content for a time to revel in the golden glow of togetherness. For several minutes, neither of them moved, not wanting to break the lovely magic spell of their re-joining.   
It was Spock who finally disentangled his arms, tracing a pattern with one slender finger around Kirk’s nipples.

“Spock, you’re tickling me!”

With a wry smile, Spock lightly tiptoed two fingers downwards to the top of Kirk’s trousers.

“Unless you have learned to be modest during your stay on Vulcan, these will HAVE to go.”

“And yours, Vulcan Warrior. Right down to the last stitch.”

“I will …um… assist you. We are after all celebrating our togetherness.”

They undressed each other, slowly tenderly, one item at a time. They gazed at each other’s bodies with a newly sense of blossoming wonderment. Kirk watched wide-eyed at the beautiful sight of Spock organ, coming alive, rising to greet his own as though saying. ‘Hello’ after weeks of abstinence. Almost tentatively, Spock out a hand, his fingers tracing a fiery trail from naval to groin.  
Resting his head on Spock's furry chest, he relaxed, content for a while to let his bond made explore and rediscover. There was plenty of time…

//Thee is beautiful// Spock sighed through their bond. His eyes were tear bright. //How have I longed for this day with thee//

Kirk made his first gentle move, his hands gliding down to the dark warm groin. Where he found what he was seeking, firm and impressive.

//So many lonely nights, Spock. I hope I won’t wake up and find I’m dreaming.//

Spock covered his mouth with his own, his tongue expertly seeking the hidden crevices. Then he stepped abruptly.

“Do you still think you might be dreaming, Jim!” he asked, and Kirk grinned.

“Hmm, most doubtful. But I could do with some more of it, just to be absolutely certain.”

Spock’s tongue obediently began a trip of exploration, lazily at first but soon darting and licking in hot little circles, teeth nipping, occasionally making Kirk squirm as he enjoyed every single moment of it. He was happy for Spock to take the lead. His own turn would come. They always shared.  
So good…

The fiery heat concentrated on his own genitals now, like a vast powerhouse of untapped energy. Tingling from tip to toe, he placed a restraining hand on Spock.

“Not so fast … please, not so fast.”

More slowly now, and lingering pleasurable over each loving, sensuous touch, they pressed their bodies together closely, hips moving in harmonious unison until they were dancing on a heatwave of flaming, mutual synchronization, their bodies perfectly attuned,

Fire and heat. Red dancing flames of undiminished joy…

Afterwards, they lay back in each other’s arms, relaxed and happy. After a while, Spock gazed up languidly at the ceiling, pointing up at the corner.

“Do you see those dragons between the cracks?”

Kirk smiled affectionately. “Having your post-coital fantasy, Spock?”

“They are blue and gold, with enormous eyes. And they are very benign…at least for dragons.”

“I do love you.”

“There were dragons in that same corner when I was a child. But they were not benign. Isn’t it strange, Jim? This room once bore silent witness to my loneliness. Now it has witnessed my joy. I love you deeply.”

Kirk kissed him. 

“I’m hungry!” he complained lightly.

“I have my post-coital fantasises you have post-coital hunger. But we cannot go to the kitchen like this. If my Mother should walk in…”

Kirk chuckled at that crazy thought as Spock reached for his robe. 

“We’ll shower. Then I will …um.. raid the kitchen. We can eat here.” Spock said.

“Great! I’ll straighten up in here, while you’ve gone.”

“Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“Bones … he is alone in his room. Perhaps he would like to share our meal!”

A warm flood of understanding flowed between them. McCoy – the third arm of their trinity. An essential part of then, yet apart, and in a real sense, the loneliest of the three...

He grinned. “I’ll go invite him when we’ve showered,” he agreed. “Now, come on, Spock. I’m dying for a pee!”

They showered together, another sensation Kirk had longed for, and then scrubbed each other dry until Kirk felt he was glowing. Pulling on his briefs and wrapping a bath robe around him, he did some tidying up before going in search of McCoy.

Bones snapped off the tape he was reading. “Hi Jim! You feel better now?”

//No, don’t think about it. Don’t bring it to the forefront of your mind, not on the day of our re-joining.//

“Sure,” he answered shortly. “Sorry about earlier. I …er…well, let’s forget it for a time, huh?”

“Forgotten, Jim.” McCoy assured him easily. “You and Spock …er… make up?”

“Were we that noisy?” he teased, and the doctor chuckled.

“Nope. Just an inspired guess. What brings you here, Jim?”

“Thought you’d like to join us for a snack.”

“It’s mid-afternoon!”

“What difference does that make? Aw, common Bones. You’re on R and R. Beside, we want you to. Both of us.”

Their eyes met. McCoy stood up decisively,

“Okay, James T. you gotta deal! Lead on!”


	13. A childhood friend

McCoy followed Jim into Spock’s room with trepidation. He had long ceased to feel intimated by the Vulcan, who had become a good friend over the years despite the show they liked to put on for the benefit of outsiders. Even so, he often felt uncomfortable with him, although Spock would have been mortified had he known.

Spock’s room came as a surprise. His quarters aboard the ‘Enterprise’ were neat to the point of being clinical. But the room was verging on the untidy, There was a row of real books, well-read judging by the dog-eared appearance. An old Vulcan harp was propped up against a box of assorted junk, obviously child-hood treasurers and he grinned at that thought. He’d never been able to imagine Spock as a child anyway, let alone one with loved yet useless items. Strange how a few square metres of space could reveal so much. A holo on the table beside the bed depicted a solemn Vulcan boy, unmistakably Spock, sat astride an enormous, decrepit Sehlat.

“I’Chiya.” Spock volunteered. “My ---er---teddy bear!”

That broke the ice. He relaxed.

“Betcha didn’t take him to bed with you?”

“Only when Sarek was not looking. Please sit down. I have cold food.” He gave one of his brief, enigmatic smiles. “The meal was Jim’s idea.”

//Post coital hunger? Well, typical of James T! What on earth does Spock do after a good fuck? Compute the square root of … Ah, hell, shaddup! None of your sodding business. ‘Side, jealousy will   
get you nowhere.

Jealous!?!

He frowned down at the food tray he was being offered, not really noticing what was on it.

“Is it not to your liking?” Spock asked.

“Oh …er…sorry, I was miles away. Sure, the food is great, just so long it’s not plomeek.”

“Not in midwinter, Doctor!”

“This is midwinter? What do you do in summer, for God’s sake? Fry?”

Again, Spock smiled. Jim laughed openly and McCoy took some of the food, munching tentatively. 

Actually, it was quite tasty as he observed his two friends.

//Yeah! Quite some guys, Jim Kirk and Spock. Look at the way they stay close to each other. Not actually touching. Just ….well, close. Close in a beautiful, loving way. Like they were synchronised. One. Sod it, you are jealous! Of two fruits? Hell no! Jim and Spock were not …well, what are they? They’ve been screwing for God knows how long!//

//So you are jealous! But what of, for Chrissakes. The sex? You’ve had so little of that recently. Even so, I can’t see you with either Jim or Spock in that situation – especially Spock. No. Not the sex…I think! The closeness, maybe. The Oneness! Okay, so they love you as a friend. But maybe that aint enough, you selfish bastard! You want to share more of them. Be one with them? Share…//

//Soon, it may be too late//

He shuddered.

“Bones?”

He blinked, and then looked into Jim’s eyes.

“Uh? … Oh, sorry again. Guess it’s my day for dreaming.”

“Spock was asking if you’d like to come with us tomorrow? We’re going to take a look-see at his ancestral home.”

“And also a little surprise.” Spock put in.

“And I don’t even know what the surprise is.” Jim confessed grinning.

//Friendship … love … what more could a guy want?//

“Thanks, Spock, I’d really appreciate that.” He answered sincerely.

 

He slept badly that night. He had always been disturbed with his relationship with Kirk and Spock, never quite able to define either the uneasiness or the longing. For the first time in years, he had a wildly erotic dream, and woke up from it wet and sticky, and with a distinct loathing of himself. He dared not sleep again.

His friends were waiting for him next morning, when he finally trusted himself to put in an appearance.

Spock had borrowed his Father’s skimmer, which they all climbed into, McCoy at the back, Kirk (of course) in the front beside his bond-mate.

He stretched out his legs in the luxurious ‘car.

“Wow!” he commented. “This is some ‘car, Spock!” he quipped. “All singing, all dancing!”

“It does neither of those things.” Spock said, belting up. “It is, however, the top-of-the-range. It is Sarek’s ambassadorial skimmer, after all.”

“Boasting, Spock?” Kirk asked, trying not to laugh.

“No. Stating a fact.”

“Are you sure you can drive this thing?” McCoy asked Spock, who treated the remark with the contempt it deserved. He snapped on the aircon, pressed a button that snapped on McCoy’s belt, and they were off.

“Where to?” Kirk asked.

“It is a surprise.”

“I didn’t think Vulcans believed in surprises?” McCoy said sourly.

“Stop bickering, Bones!” Kirk ordered in his ‘Captainly’ voice, and silence descended as the skimmer …well…skimmed away.

“Firstly,” Spock explained, “I must stop at the arcade to purchase something.”

“Purchase what?” Kirk asked, now intrigued.

“You will see later.” Came the enigmatic reply, and soon they were at the aforesaid ‘Arcade.’ Spock skilfully parked. “Please stay here. I will not be long. If a parking warden happens along, show him your ID, Jim. As a Starfleet Captain, and point out that this is an ambassadorial car belonging to Sarek. You will have no further trouble.”

Both McCoy and Kirk laughed at Spock’s slightly illegal solution to an age-old problem, as they watched Spock disappear into the arcade. He returned minutes later, with a carefully sealed box, which he gave to Kirk, who shook it.

“Please be careful, Jim. Sarek will not forgive me if we make a mess of his vehicle. I’ll show you the contents later.”

They were soon on their way again, out into the arid countryside, glad of the air-con in the car. After about an hour, they turned into what looked like a farm. A board was attached to the gate, declaring something in pre-form Vulcan, which (hopefully) only Spock could translate. Again, Spock parked up, this time next to a barn, and both Kirk and McCoy followed him out of the ‘car.

“This place is Shikah’s only animal rescue centre.”

“Oh?” McCoy asked. “what do they rescue?”

“Something most important to me, Doctor.”

A young Vulcan teenager emerged from the barn. He obviously recognised Spock, and half bowed respectfully.

“Spock, Son of Sarek, we are honoured with your presence.”

“I too. My companions are Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise and Dr McCoy, The Chief Medical Officer of the same Starship.”

Again, the formal bow. “He is quite ready, sir.”

“Then let him come.” Spock ordered.

“Him?” queried Jim, itching to know.

“A secret lover?” McCoy couldn’t help but to put in.

“Something like that.” Spock agreed wryly.

A howl came from the barn, followed closely by a mad flurry of claws, paws and a vision of fiery red fur, which seemed to leap into Spock’s outstretched arms, nearly bowling him over. Somehow, he managed to put the animal to the ground, and the two visitors caught a glimpse of tow enormous canine teeth, which really gave Spock’s surprise away.

“A Sehlat!” Jim exclaimed, awestruck.

“Not just any Sehlat, Jim, Bones. Meet I’Chiya. My teddy bear. My only boyhood friend.”  
Spock knelt onto the dusty ground and continued to pet him.

“Oh Spock, he’s wonderful.”

“He is very old. When I left for the Science Academy, because of their lifestyle, my parents could not care for him, and this centre rehomed him.”

“They look after him well?”

“Of course. You can see how happy he is. He has his own den, and is free to wander over the extensive grounds; He even has his own mate. Sehlats were endangered, but my I’Chiya has done well for his species. His mate has produced three health litters of pups. And as they grow – more pups, to be released into the wild. He deserves a good-life. My parents and I provide for his and his children’s upkeep.

“Can I touch him?” McCoy asked.

“He loves to be petted, Bones. And...” a small smile appeared “I’ve told him to be good to my friends.” He looked up at Jim, “Where is my box – the one I purchased?”

Kirk gave it to him, and when Spock opened the lid, he looked inside.

“Sand Eels” came the explanation. “I’Chya’s all-time favourite treat.”

He plucked some from the box, and offered them to the Sehlat, who slurped them up in two seconds flat. Then they all indulged in petting sessions, even McCoy, who had seemed a bit reluctant at first. Soon, the Sehlat was nuzzling up to them all, making a noise oat the back of his throat that sounded like a purr of contentment, especially when Spock gave him the rest of the sand eels from the now empty box. All too son, the young carer appeared silently.

“Sir, I must return I’Chiya to his den.”

“Of course.” Spock agreed.

“Err, just one thing of a more personal nature.” He stepped forward, producing a pad and a style. 

“Captain, could I have your signature?”

“Saren, I don’t think it is appropriate!” Spock chided, but Kirk stepped forward, smiling.

“Of course.”

He took the pad and stylus, signed his name, and then handed them back.

“You do an excellent job. Thank you for looking after I’Chiya so well. Live long and prosper.”  
The young man bowed a silent thank you. The, clicking his fingers, shepherded the Sehlat and I’Chiya lumbered away with him.

“I didn’t know Vulcan went autograph hunting!” McCoy said amused.

“Neither did I” Spock replied.

Kirk grinned. “Pulling power.. He now has the autograph of a Starship Captain and looks after the pet of one of Vulcans most famous personages in the universe!”

Spock looked uncomfortable, shuffling his feet. Kirk took his hand. “Let’s get on to your family pile, eh? That was a lovely surprise.”

They all finally settled into the car, and Spock pulled away. McCoy was again fidgeting in the back.

“Doctor, why are you unsettled?”

“I’m itchy. Hope that pet hasn’t got fleas!”

“I can assure you that he does not. Your reaction must be psychosomatic…”

“Oooh, who is the doctor now!” McCoy drawled, scratching.

“Shut up, you two.” Kirk ordered good-naturedly. “Just drive, Spock. Take no notice of him!”

They went on their way then, in companionable silence.

The journey did not take long in the powerful skimmer, the air-car humming away. Although McCoy was still damp with perspiration, Jim had obviously been acclimatized to the heat and thinner atmosphere. He looked fit and tanned, and he wore Vulcan clothes like he’d been born into the. For a time, he appeared to have put the shadow hanging over them to the back of his mind.

The ancestral home of Spock’s wealthy family was cited on the edge of the “Forge”, a vast desert, where the heat was almost unbearable. The gritty sand got into everything, stinging the eyes and irritating the skin.

The house itself was a vast stone edifice, strangely compelling in its ugliness. There was something masculine about it. Centuries of scouring sand had worn the huge slabs of Vulcan granite smooth. A blind windowless wall faced the desert. Strong. Impregnable.

“No wonder your family doesn’t live here anymore, Spock?” McCoy commented. “Imagine poor Amanda tryin’ to keep this place clean on this god-forsaken place!”

“No one has lived here for centuries”

“I can sure see why!” Jim put in, awed.

“It is still used for certain ceremonies, but only in the summer. At this time of the year, the sand=storms could be dangerous,”

“Now he tells us!” McCoy quipped. “Okay, lead on! Let’s give this home of yours the once-over! If I like it, I may decide to buy it!”

No doors were locked on Vulcan. The heavy doors yielded to Spock’s shoulder, and they stepped inside to the blessed coolness.

The place had been modernised somewhat. Lights automatically came on as they passed sensors on the walls. Dust extractors hummed softly in the background, protecting priceless furniture.

“Spock, I’ve change my mind. Don’t think I’ll buy after all.”

Jim laughed. Spock smiled his small hidden smile.

“Do not mention it, Doctor. It is not for sale. Come! You must see the Hall of Ancestors,”

The place was vast. Room after room opened up to them, each had a specific purpose relating to the affairs and ceremony of the clan.

Sometime during the tour – McCoy was not exactly sure - Jim slipped his hand in Spock’s. Such a simple loving gesture and so natural. Suddenly, he felt so privileged to witness this. Obviously, they both felt secure and confident with him with their friendship. Spock was a close bastard. It had taken years from him to admit – although obliquely – that he did feel emotion, that he could love and feel desire. Poor, lonely Spock. All those years empty and devoid of love. And now, he had found it at last, but his life was threatened by some God-awful catastrophe that, as yet, had no answer.

After the initial shock, Jim had borne the news quite calmly. He’d have to watch him. Maybe, jolt him to his senses, but not yet. Let them have their slice of happiness. God only knows they deserve it.  
So where does that leave you? On the outside, looking in and as lonely as …aw shaddup! Selfish, jealous bastard. ‘Side, wadda you want to do for Chrissakes? Make love to them? Hell, I don’t know any more! I love them so much I hurt. But like that? I don’t know! I just don’t know!

“Bones, are you daydreaming again?”

He grinned sheepishly at Jim. “Guess so. Must be the lack of O2 around here!”

They were in a small room with bare stone walls and an uncovered floor. It was totally unfurnished and unlit by modern means. Instead there was the red glow of a fire-pot which was hanging from the ceiling. McCoy knew that the fire post was at the heart of the Vulcan home. The centre of meditation, IDIC and…love?

What was Spock saying? In the days before the Reformation…Warriors and friends encircling the fire pot … pledging Oneness before the battle … in life and death, conjoined…  
He hung back, reluctant now: afraid of what was about to happen, for them; for himself. But there was no place to run too. Didn’t even want to run. They were his friends!

“Hey, Bones...”

Jim caught his hand, clasping it firmly. Creating a whole. Perfection. The thoughts rising unbidden filled with warmth and beauty so intense. As they stood in front of the fire-pot, the grip of Jim’s hand seemed to melt with the touch.

Then … as though he could barely stand it anymore. Another new sensation. His other hand entwined by strong silent fingers. Hot, dry skin against his own. Firm, confident act of friendship.   
Looking up, Spock’s eyes met his own: twin pools of alien love and understanding. With his free hand, Spock completed the circle by taking Kirk’s free hand, making the circle complete. Unbroken.  
No-one spoke. There was no need for words. The emotion and warmth of feeling said it all. All he ever wanted.

Conjoined. Trilogy.

A familiar feeling started up in his groin.

//Christ, what a time to get a hard on! Stoppit! Down boy, blast you… You aint performing for them!  
You friends! What the hell, their gender! They LOVE you, you ungrateful bastard and how many people in the goddamned galaxy loves Leonard McCoy? Not even your own daughter…//

Suddenly claustrophobic, he pulled back but Jim and Spock still held him.

“Bones, it is alright…alright…”  
Spock’s voice. Gentle, soothing, filled with love. Relaxing, he returned to the circle, marvelling at the aura which now filled the room with a very satisfying warmth.

“Bones, please stay.” Spock invited quietly.

“No, thanks all the same. I have work to do aboard the ‘Enterprise’ And I must see how Scotty’s doing with his….er…repairs. And I must submit my report to HQ that you are now fit to resume your duty, Jim. If I don’t, you’ll be ‘invited’ to attend a psychiatric board which, believe me, you do not want or need.”

“You’re not leaving because of what happened yesterday?”

“No, Jim. It was the most beautiful moments of my life, one I will never forget. Thank you, both of you. I love you both. But I’ve imposed on you long enough… and I’ve had enough of playing gooseberry.”

“Gooseberry?” Spock queried and McCoy laughed.

“Never mind. And I AM going…like now” He took Jim’s and Spock’s hands into his own. “Take care, both of you.”

Less than thirty minutes later, McCoy had gone.

“What shall we do today, Spock?”

//Oh my dear T’hy’la. Always so restless! Always so enthusiastic! Bright shining into darkness! //

“Jim, I have some important business to attend to….”

“I’ve heard that line before!”

Quick, ready smile. Infectious happiness. Boyish humour, shining through in open, hazel eyes.

//I love you. I love you. I love you.//

“It is the truth, Jim. Sarek handles my affairs competently, but there are certain things he cannot attend to. If I finalise things today, then I will have the rest of our sick-leave completely free.”

“Yeah! Guess that makes sense. But try to be quick, Spock.”

“As quickly as I can.” He promised with a quick, affectionate squeeze of Jim’s hand.

Not long afterwards, Spock thoughtfully watched his bondmate depart for the city library via the pedestrian walkway. An extrovert and with the strongest charisma Spock had never known in any other man. A natural leader, with the key to shape so many people’s lives.

Yet, vulnerable too, and SO dependent upon his emotions. So open to being hurt. He had once said that every time he fell in love it was inevitable that he would be hurt. And now, inevitable that he could be hurt again.

//Oh R’yala, you could never hurt me…But I…Soon, so soon, you could be alone and I will not be able to weep for you.//

He knocked lightly on Sarek’s study door: entered. His father was expecting him.

“Sit down, Spock.”

“I prefer to stand, sir.”  
He still felt awkward in the present of his father. Still the child, afraid of the superiority of the man, despite the fact that Sarek had mellowed over the last few years.

“Oh do not be so formal, Spock. Sit down!”

Spock sat, but was not at ease. He came directly to the point. “James Kirk is my Bond-mate.”

Sarek gave no indication of surprise. He looked steadily at his son, giving nothing away.

“I have eyes, Spock and intelligence, both of which I frequently use. I know already that you and Jim are bonded. If you require the reasons why I know…”

“That will not be necessary. I would, however, require your views. They would make no difference to my relationship with Jim, but I would like your…”

“Blessing?”

It was Spock’s turn to stare at his father. The word he had used was one his mother often used…but hardly logical. Moreover, he was on the verge of smiling.

“Yes.” He agreed shortly, more awkward than ever now. This was an entirely new side of his father.   
Unfortunately, there was no time to be more acquainted with hit, and he deeply regretted that. He had always longed to know him: longed to be closer to him, but had never known how to approach him.

“Spock, you are being illogical. If my approval would make no difference, why ask for it?... No matter. 

In the past, I would not have approved your choice of Bond-mate. But the past is dead and dealing with you, I tried too hard to mould you in Vulcan ways, but I should not have ignored your Human half. I alienated myself from you. And both of us have missed so much.”  
He smiled again, ruefully this time, and suddenly Spock began to understand his father for the first time in his life.

“Spock, how can I not approve of your bonding to James Kirk? For no other consideration than IDIC, you would have it. Beside, did I not choose a Human Bondmate and now know the glories and frustrations of a …er… more emotive relationship?”

“You and Mother …. It was logical at the time?”

Sarek gave him a wry look. “Your Mother is quite correct. You are too Vulcan. Logic can be a most relative ideal, Spock, if you want to make it so. Is your relationship with Jim Kirk so logical?”

“No” he answered truthfully.

“I am relieved. Jim has taught you many things I neglected to.”

There was a strange silence: strange because of the understanding which flowed between them: an empathy neither of them had ever savoured before. It was bitter-sweet, Spock thought, and wondered longingly about all the years they had missed.

“Spock, when your condition becomes such that you cannot continue your Starfleet duties, your home here is open to you.”

“Thank you for your attention, Father. Please excuse me; I have another matter to attend to.”

He turned towards the door, Sarek briefly called him back.

“Spock … you DO have my approval.”  
“It please me.” He said before he quietly departed.

There was one other piece of business. Something he had neglected for far too long. Briskly, he walked through the tree lined walkways, until he discovered the house he was seeking, which was tucked away in a quiet suburb.

Stonn only bare hid his surprise. The traditional greeting of a visitor was decidedly reluctant, but Spock accepted the invitation to enter and be seated.

“Stonn, I will be brief. This concerns T’Pring. Legally, she remains mine…”

“How fortunate for you.” Stonn interrupted sourly. Spock ignored him. 

“I no longer have use for he. Therefore it is not logical for her to remain bonded with me. Before returning to my duties for Starfleet, I intended to instruct my legal advisers to release her. After that time, neither she nor I will hold any legal responsibilities toward each other.”

Stonn’s face drained of colour. “I do not want her.”

“That, Stonn, is your problem, not mine. Perhaps now, you will realise that wanting is not the same as having.” Spock stood. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Stonn turned abruptly. “Spock! Perhaps your Human element has made you act with too much haste in this matter. Reconsider. There will be certain … times… when you will require her services.”

“I think not, Stonn.” He said before making a dignified exit.

//Now,// he thought, relieved that was over. //There is something important I must purchase.//

In his mind, he realised where he intended to go, and strode determinedly away.


	14. Giving

Kirk felt depressed, and he knew that the inactivity whilst Spock was about his private business was not helping. He had never enjoyed kicking his heals, even at the best of times … and … this was not one of them.

When? How? Why? Especially the ‘Why’

Why Spock? … why us … why now…

Why did Spock risk his own life by coming after me…? Why did the goddamned Klingons inject him with that drug? Why, oh why did his body react to it so badly?

Why Spock …Why us … when we had discovered so much happiness and love?  
“Jim?”

The gentle, beloved voice. The hand, kissing his own in a sweet moment of tenderness. He blinked back tears, but one escaped and streaked down his cheek. Spock wiped it away with a slim finger.

“T’hy’la, please do not cry.”

“I weep for you. For us. For our love…”

“Your optimism, Jim. I have always admired it. Please do not lose it now.”

He shook his head, smiling wanly. “I won’t, Spock.” He promised. “Believe me, I need it.”

“And I, T’hy’la. And I.”

Spock lightly kissed his cheek. Then, he gave a rare smile. Such an open, beautiful smile when they were alone together. Like a never-ending gift, that filled Kirk with wonderment, the same as when he had first seen it.

“Jim, I have something special prepared for us both tonight.”

His natural enthusiasm quickly returned. “A surprise, Spock? Or is my illogical Vulcan going to let me in on the secret?”

Spock seemed embarrassed almost.

“It concerns physical fulfilment.” He said. “True, physical commitment.”

The meaning of Spock’s words fully dawned on him. Within the space of seconds, his emotions ran full circle. Fear, apprehension. Excitement – longing.

“Only if you wish it to be so.” Spock said quietly.

“Oh, Spock, I wish it, believe me. I wish to with all my heart.”

“It would be the Vulcan way.”

“Which way. Anyway …The Vulcan Way … I will be happy. You only need to tell me what I must do – the Vulcan Way – and I will do it, gladly.”

“Your new clan toga. That would be most appropriate. And we must prepare ourselves.” Spock produced a small vial, opened it and gave one of the tablets to Kirk. “We must cleanse ourselves inside.”

Kirk’s gut contracted, releasing that there would perhaps be no need to take the tiny tablet, which nestled in the palm of his hand, if his emotions became even more unruly.

“We must also prepare ourselves mentally, perhaps after the physical cleansing. We should meditate alone, without each other’s thoughts to disturb the equilibrium. We will meet at sundown, in the arbour in the garden. And Jim…” Spock’s caressed his own “…please do not waste your time in grief. Contemplate instead our love and passion. Oneness.”

“That,” Kirk assured his sincerely “Will not be difficult, my Vulcan. My beloved one.”

It was not difficult. The internal ‘cleansing’ did not last long and was nothing like he had feared. When that was over, he settled down to meditate. As usual, the technique offered him sanctuary from his earlier dark thoughts and depression, lifting his spirits to lovely heights of awareness, which were filled with peace and beauty. By the time he was ready to meet Spock once more, he was relaxed and happy.

Spock too, wore his clan toga. It was to be an important night, perhaps, Kirk realised the most significant one in both their lives after the bonding.

Spock greeted him traditionally, two fingers touching two fingers. Then, almost impatiently for him, led him out of Amanda’s garden and along the walkway to where Sarek’s skimmer was parked.

“My parents are away for the night, in the Ambassadorial Car. So Sarek gave me permission to use his skimmer instead.”

“I thought we’d be staying at home. Where we going?”

“To my ancestral home.”

“That rambling old place in the desert?”

Spock silenced him with a finger over his mouth.  
“The Vulcan way, Jim. Remember?”

The old fortress looked even more forbidding in the thick, darkness of a Vulcan night, and the high-pitched whistle of the wind made it all the more earie and unwelcoming. Spock gave an enigmatic smile as he shouldered the heavy entrance doors.

“No ghosts on Vulcan, Jim.” He teased. “That would be most illogical. Come!”

Hand in hand, they strode through the great halls, and up the stone staircase, their footsteps echoing. Even sound was more intensified at night, despite the yellow glow of the automatic lighting. Eventually, they reached the fire pot room. Only now, it was not empty as it had been when McCoy had joined their circle. To one side was a low table set with fruit, vegetables and P’nasha. There was also a heap of cushions and soft covers.

“You’ve been busy, Spock.” 

“I retained an old acquaintance of my father to set this correctly. I wanted it to be exactly right for you T’hy’la.”

“For us, my beloved Vulcan. For us.”

They kissed. Spock broke away. From the little store of incense, he took a pinch between his thumb and forefinger.

“Share with me T’hy’la. An ancient ceremony dedicated to the joy of One-ness in the physical union of Bond Mates.”

Kirk too took a pinch of incense. Together they sprinkled their offering into the flames of the fire-pot, which immediately burned brighter and filled the air with sweetness.

Spock took his hand: brought it up towards the searing flame, exposing both their writs to the flame. Kirk refused to flinch: willed himself against the reflex to draw away from the pain. Did not even grift his teeth,

It was over in a few short seconds, their flesh scorched by the flame. Still silent, Spock led Kirk across to the table. Behind the table was a small pot of salve, which they smeared liberally onto each other’s burn. Immediately, the sting disappeared. Solemnly, Spock poured out a liberal measure of P’nasha into two glasses. It tasted strong and fiery.

“Jim, we have shared the Trilogy of Oneness. Sweetness, pain and strength. It remains for us to share ourselves. To give and receive the essence of Life itself. Our Seed. Come, T’hy’la. Share with me.”

Heart pounding, against his ribs, he came in Spock’s arms, embracing him fiercely. With a deft, nimble movement, Spock untied his belt, and with another allowed the toga to fall to the floor. Following his lead, Kirk reciprocated then, naked, they knelt on the bed of cushions, facing each other. It was Kirk who initiated the bond.

*This night is so precious*

*It has hardly begun*  
*I’m glad. I do not want it to end quickly. I want to stay here forever. Just the two of us, surrounded by this lovely air of anticipation.*

Through the bond, Kirk heard Spock laugh.

*I do love you. Your illogic is so endearing!*

*You might try it yourself, sometime*

*I do. Every time I make love to you*

*And…*

*It is an … interesting … experience*

Spock was teasing him now. Chuckling, he pushed him backwards, sending him sprawling, then dived on top of him, holding his head while he kissed him hard. At last, they surfaced, panting for breath. Almost before he had recovered, Spock pulled him down again, placing his finger-tips against Kirk’s temples.

He relaxed as the warm, golden glow of love-thoughts, unformed, yet so literate and beautiful, bathing his mind in the sweet joy of togetherness. Like a kaleidoscope, the patterns ever changing. Sometimes calm: gentle, like sun-dappled waters. Often breath-takingly exciting, an experience that brought him to new heights of desire and longing. Spock’s mind and his own co-joined in twin experience, mirroring each other’s thoughts and longing, and the power of their sexual experiences.  
Almost as though he was in the midst of a vivid dream, Kirk felt gentle hands caress his back, his buttocks. A finger, now lubricated with salve, cautiously explored the cleft, circling the opening of his anus. Then came the weight of his lovers’ body on top of his own. Hard, sleek shaft, impossible an impressively large, pressing urgently against the opening.

The tip eased inside. Kirk tightened up, and the pain made him pull away. Tears of frustration rushed to his eyes. He choked on a sob as his erection faded quickly into limpness.  
Spock hugged him. Strong. Reassuring.

*Jim, don’t cry. Don’t worry.*

“I wanted to do this. To be just right.*

“It will, T’hy’la. I rushed you. I was too eager. I am sorry.*

“Please try again. Please try.*

Spock smoothed away the hair from Kirk’s sweaty forehead, caressing away the feat and disappointment. The obvious love and warmth, and the genuine caring of his partner, restored his confidence and the familiar tingling in his groin heralded the reflowering of his erection.

Once more, the hard, firm tip pressed urgently against anus. This time, Kirk relaxed and Spock’s organ glided in with ease.

There was no rush now. Just a very tender loving desire to satisfy. At first, Spock moved slowly within him, encouraging him to gradually relax, pressing up and down, gently pressing with this hips until finally, they were requiring nothing more but their twin passion of fiery melting glory: undulating waves of flame as Spock moaned with pleasure, his fingers tightening their grip on Kirk’s flesh as he reached a shuddering climax, filling Kirk’s body with the life-fluid of his total maleness. Exhausted, Spock sank to lie beside Kirk’s body, were they rested for many minutes until eventually strength returned to their limbs and Kirk moved to kneel between Spock’s spread legs.

Kirk dipped his fingers into the jar of cool cream salve, liberally coating his organ and the cleft between Spock’s buttocks, finding sensual pleasure in each and every simple thing. Obviously Spock did too as he gently ground his penis into the pillow, seeking to satisfy his new erection. Kirk used his body to guide his penis toward its goal, and even in his awkward sense of ecstasy, Spock helped him, shifting his position slightly. The penetration into warm, receptive tightness was surprisingly easy and so utterly beautiful, Kirk moaned with joy. Spock unconsciously uttered ancient phrases of endearment in the Vulcan language as he slid effortlessly up and down on a glorious tidal wave of love. As Kirk eased his arms around Spock’s waist, his lover came, soaking themselves in triumphant waves of semen.

They were rising on joy, surrounded by soft feathery clouds of love. He wanted it to go on forever, wanted to be inside his lover, his whole body alive and vibrant, attuned to the bodily and mental needs of the man beneath him. Loving, caring, wanting, and needing. Kirk came, explosively, releasing all the love fluid of the long awaited climax. His life-seed flowing into the warmth of the body to which he was co-joined in a lovely mesh of Oneness.

His erection slowly died. For a while he chose to remain within the warmth of the body that was so willing. Then, reluctantly he pulled away, rolling over onto the softness of the cushions, holding out his arms for Spock to come into them.

They said nothing for a while. There was no need for words in the lovely, golden afterglow. Kirk just felt contact to hold Spock close to him, loving the feel of nakedness against his own. It was Spock who eventually made the first move.

“No hydro-shower, Jim.” He explained “But there is a sonic one. Come, I’ll lead the way.”

Finally tingling with cleanliness and the invigorating glow of renewed vigour, they returned to the room where Spock had prepared the meal, lounging on the cushions.

There was something wrong when they arrived home, late next morning. Neither Sarek nor Amanda was at work at the Academy, although it was a normal working day. There was a general air of unusual gloom, intangible, but definitely present. They changed quickly then Spock, naturally anxious, went in search of his father. He emerged a few minutes later.

“My mother is unwell.”

“Oh, Spock…”

“There is no necessity to be alarmed, Jim. Sarek has informed Mother of my illness. She is temporarily indisposed.”

Kirk knew Spock well enough to realise that the apparent lack of concern about Amanda was merely an attempt to cover his distress. He loved his mother deeply, but had never been able to demonstrate this. Inhibitions from birth were difficult to rid himself of: for Sark too.

“Go, see your Mom, Spock.” He suggested gently.

“She is resting, Jim. I do not want to disturb her.”

That is what he said. What he meant was so different that he would be awkward and embarrassed: that he would not find words to comfort her.

Spock’s tragedy, only to one person had he ever been able to say “I love you.”

“Then I will go to her!” he said, and before Spock could object he turned away and began to mount the stairs, unusually angry at Spock and Sarek. Strangely, he understood them. They were Vulcan after all and it was unfair to impose Human standards on them. On occasions they both had difficulty in coping with them.  
All the same, Amanda had her Human needs too … and right now, she needed to be comforted. Sarek was not so insensitive usually. Maybe he was upset too. But that was no damn excuse!  
He calmed himself down as he knocked on the door of Sarek and Amanda’s bedroom door before he cautiously entered.

“It’s Jim. Excuse the intrusion…”

Flustered, Amanda sat up. “Oh, Jim! I didn’t realise you were back. I’m sorry; just give me a few minutes…”

“No, please don’t get up. May I come in?”

Amanda nodded wearily. Kirk sat on the edge of the bed and took her hands into his own. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears she was holding back, perhaps too bravely.

“Amanda, I know…. I know. Cry if you want to. It helps, really.”

“Oh, Jim…” Her lips trembled. Then she pushed forward into his arms and sobbed. He held her tightly: comfortingly: loving her so much he ached for her, sharing her pain, yet valiantly trying to be strong enough to comfort her.

At last, the sobs subsided. Kirk gave her one last special hug.

“Feeling better?”

“A little. Thank you, Jim. For understanding…”

“I was angry with Spock and Sark when I came here.” He admitted. “They had no right to just … just leave you without comfort.”

“Jim, they are Vulcan.”

“I’ve heard that excuse too often. Being Vulcan seems to excuse everyone from a whole lot of responsibilities.”

He pulled himself up abruptly, knowing he had said enough. Fresh tears were gathering in Amanda’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised with gruff tenderness. “I understand them too, believe me. It’s just…well…I’m human too. I knew exactly what you are going through.” He smiled. “Me and my big mouth.”

She squeezed his hand. Their silence conveyed the love and respect they felt for each other. Eventually, he said:

“Come on. Smile for me. I expect Sarek told you the news in cold, hard facts, huh? But it’s not really as bad as it seems. Spock has time on his side, and there’s a lot of medic working on it. Brilliant medics like Leonard McCoy. Bones has pulled so many miracles off before. If he can do it for anyone, he will certainly do it for Spock.”

For a bright, precious moment he believed that himself. Hope, after all, was what was left. He was uncertain whether Amanda believed it herself. At least she smiled and glanced at the chronometer.

“Grace, look at the time! And I’d planned a special meal tonight as this is our last evening together, as you both return to the ‘Enterprise’ tomorrow. I must hurry!”

“Hey, calm down! Listen, collect yourself. I can help you prepare dinner. We’ll do it together.”

“You?”

She was genuinely smiling now, with amusement.

“Why not? I’m very self-sufficient. I’m quite domesticated.”

Standing up, Amanda hugged him, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“Jim, you are so good to me. I feel sorry for your Mother. She missed you so much.”

“You are my Mother now.” He returned the kiss. “Get ready. Take your time. We’ll meet in the kitchen and show those two Vulcans what gourmet delights we Humans are capable of.”

It was not easy to say goodbye to Amanda and Sarek next morning, or to the Vulcan home he had come to love. And there was something poignant about the parting which caused a knot of emotion to form in Kirk’s throat. After all, the next time Spock’s parents might see him again, he could be possibly dying…

Or worse….

He could be dead….

Successfully, at least for the time being, he managed to block the thought, neatly shelving it into a tightly-sealed compartment.

And it was so good to step aboard the ‘Enterprise’ again: to be engulfed by the warm, satisfying sights, sounds and smells of his Starship. To be welcome back so genuinely by his friends and crew: to sit in the wide comfortable command chair on the Bridge. He looked around with immense satisfaction before saying to Sulu:

“Helmsman, take her out of here. Heading two point four. Warp two.”

Vulcan swiftly receded.

//But we’ll be back// he promised silently. //We’ll be back//


	15. Home Coming

McCoy, who had been in the Captain’s ‘Welcome Home’ committee only briefly, was not sorry when an emergency cropped up in Sickbay and he was able to beat a hasty retreat. Now, emergency over, he sat morosely in his office, nursing his emotions as he had done since returning to the ‘Enterprise.’ The ‘ceremony’ at the ancient Vulcan home had taken him completely off guard, and had surface thoughts he never knew existed: disturbing thoughts. Jealousy, love, longing, all strangely interwoven like a cobwebbed maze.

It was only when he had return to the ship – perhaps too abruptly – that he was able to sort out his chaotic thoughts and place the strange and beautiful gesture of friendship into perspective.  
As a psychiatrist, he knew that there was some sexuality in every dep friendship, and that it was certainly nothing to be feared. In times of stress and deep emotion, it often surface. And he also realised that there was no real sexual connotations now, with his relationship with Jim and Spock. So, he loved them most deeply, even thought he would probably never be able to admit the fact to them openly – especially Spock. But it was the love of friendship he felt for them.

He knew that now.

And it was the friendship that was bothering him now. It was bad enough in any case to helplessly stand by and watch a patient slowly die. But when that patient was his friend, it was double hard.  
So far, Spock’s condition had not only foxed him, but many of the other medics working on it. Unfortunately, the drug that had been used on him was completely unknown – or the composition – or the trace elements in Spock’s blood and in Kirk’s. Unknown, and at best sketchy. It was strongly suspected that one element – the important one in Spock’s case – and the one doing the damage – was missing. The vital part of the puzzle. So far, it had eluded everyone. There had been no ‘eureka!’ moment, and seemed as remote to find it or capture the Klingon who had manufactured it.  
At the moment, all anyone could hope for was control of the condition; in itself not easy due to the multiplicity of the affected bodily functions.

He was still deep in thought about this, and forming a course of action in his mind when Jim knocked and poked his head around the door.

“Hi, Bones! Can I come in?”

“Help yourself.” He answered shortly. Jim straddled a chair with easy familiarity. He seemed cheerful.

Too cheerful.

McCoy decided not to deflate him too early. Jim’s emotions were always labile, and he guessed that depression would come soon enough, after he’d had time to settle himself back into the familiar routine of Starship life.

“I didn’t see you much earlier, Bones.”

“I was called away to an emergency.”

“Well, looks like there isn’t one now. Care to come to my quarters tonight. Nothing much. Just you, Spock and I….”

“Jim, there is absolutely no need to overdo the friendship bit, you know. I won’t break in two ‘cos you don’t invite me round every five minutes.”

He saw the hurt in Jim’s eyes and could have bitten his tongue off. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I didn’t mean it to sound the way it did, honestly,”

Jim stood up, shrugging. There was tension between them now, tension he had never intended to happen.

“That’s okay, Bones, Some other time…”

“Jim, look! Really! I didn’t mean that. All I wanted to say was that…well, you need time for yourselves – dammit, without me hanging around. It’s just not fair on either of you.”

“We wouldn’t have asked you if we hadn’t have wanted you. All we envisaged was a quiet social evening.”

McCoy smiled, and the tension lessened somewhat.

“Then I accept, Jim. Thank you.”

The hurt and anger left Jim’s eyes. He grinned happily.

“Guess I’m sorry too, Bones. I’m a bit on edge, what with the reception home this morning and all. Y’know, the first day back and everything. Anyway, you’ll be most welcome. You know that.”

“I know it,” he said sincerely.

They made love that night after McCoy had gone; the first time in Kirk’s quarters since he had been taken to Vulcan. Yet it was restrained somehow, neither of them able to give themselves up completely to the mind-bond.

 

The edginess Kirk had felt earlier had not diminished, and it had affected the intensity of their love-making. Spock too seemed to be preoccupied and there was not the usual warmth to their bond. 

Eventually, they decided to sleep in their own respective quarters.

Kirk knew the reason. So did Spock, but it was unspoken between them: Spock’s sickness. It now hovered over them like a black cloud, marring their relationship.

Yet still, Kirk was reluctant to discuss it: reluctant to put into words the things which must eventually be said.

The next few days were busy for him as he settled back to the job of commanding the ‘Enterprise’. And when he was not busy, he made himself so, working himself so hard and for such long hours, that he was invariably exhausted by the end of his shift – an excuse for going straight to his own bed.  
Yet he could not sleep. He was haunted by McCoy’s words.

‘Inch by inch, cell by cell.’

Depression hit him hard. Away from the peace of Vulcan, he was no longer able to put his grief to the back of his mind.

As the captain of the ‘Enterprise’ he functioned with his usual efficiency and he doubted that the majority of his crew knew anything about his inner turmoil. But as a man, and as Spock’s bond-mate, he began to feel more than a little frantic about what was to come in the future.

Yet still, he could not bring himself to talk with Spock about it all. Dared not invite the inevitable pain it would bring to both of them. He hated to avoid Spock, and missed him dreadfully. But, he reasoned with himself, he would be no good to Spock unless he sorted out his own emotions. And maybe Spock understood. At least he had made no demands.

Miserable, he took a deep breath. His feet took him, hardly aware of where he was going, into the main rec-room which was usually near-empty.

To his surprise, it was nearly full and a big-screen had been set up on the front of the staging. He turned, ready to walk out, but had already been spotted, and those crew members closer to him stood up. He motioned them to sit down again. He saw Scotty, who left his seat to join him.

“Afternoon, Cap’n.” Came the greeting.

“Afternoon, Scotty. What’s the attraction here?”

“Ye dinna know?” Scotty seemed surprised.

“Er…no.” He had not been taking much notice of his crew’s leisure time lately.

“Tis the cup final, sir. The oldest football final in the Universe, sir.”

“Oh,” Kirk re-joined dully. He was not really in the mood to watch a soccer match, although he know that a lot of his crew enjoyed the matches, shown by courtesy of the Starfleet Sports Division.  
Scotty was waiting for him to comment. Somehow, he pulled himself together.

“What teams?” he asked inanely.

“Och, I dinna really know. Some team called ManU, whoever they are. Oh and the Foxes. Sir, if you would like to watch…”

“Yes, of course.” Too late to get out of it now.

“I’ll clear up a seat for you. Oi, Riley! Move your ass for the Captain!”

He moved across to the chair, vacated by Kevin, who was grinning as he pretended to dust the seat down.

“There you are, sir! A chair fit for the Captain to be sure!”

“Thank you, Kevin.”

He did not really want to be here. A lonely Spock was waiting for him, he knew.

“Which team are you supporting, Sir?” asked Kevin, who had found a seat close by.

He did not really know – or care.

“Er..Foxes.” Well, they sounded cuddly enough.

“Good choice!” Someone said next to him. 

Obviously, he had chosen a popular team. The preliminaries to the match began on the screen. The cup tie was such an ancient fixture, that everything about it was traditional. Governments had tried to eliminate the things once, but there was such an outcry that they were reinstated. Sometimes, it seems, age-old things were best.

And so it went on. The teams came out, bedecked in their team colours. Red for ManU and blue for the Foxes. As they stood in their own lines, out came the Soprano, standing alone in the centre of the pitch, microphone in hand.

All voices in the rec-room were now raised – all except Kirk’s – to sing the Cup Final Anthem. He listened to the words, originally a hymn, but now adopted to suit all.

“Abide with me, fast falls the eventide…”  
Kirk could not listen further. Tears formed. He could not stop them, and was glad no-one was looking at him.

The anthem went on….

“Hold your dear face before my closing eyes…

Shine through the gloom and point me to the stars.

Heavens glories break, and my dark shadows flee.

In life, in death my love

Abide with me…”

By now, he could no long quell the tears, threatening to choke him.

//Oh, Spock! Abide with me!//

Abruptly, he stood up, trying to hide his distress as he hurried out of the rec-room as fast as he could.

Perhaps it was fortunate that, as he was now on the corridor leading to Sickbay, McCoy appeared and immediately became aware of his distress.

“Jim! Where have you been to get yourself into such a state!”

“A soccer match.” He tried to reply weakly.

“What? Those guys with the tweeny weeny shorts and no body armour? What in the universe happened? Did the wrong team lose?”

Kirk sniffed back his runny nose.

“They sang the football anthem.”

“So?”

“It was…it was…Abide with…me.”

With that, his sobs came again. Leaning against the wall, he started to sink to his knees. McCoy took his arms, pulled him gently towards his chest and put an arm around him.

“Come on, Jim, you can’t stay like this in a public corridor. Come into my quarters until you’ve managed to get yourself together again. ‘Sides, I wanted to talk with you.”

McCoy’s quarters were homely and as warm as the man who occupied them. Even so, he could not relax, his tenseness increasing as McCoy settled him into a chair, poured out a stiff malt whisky and offered it to him.

“Take a good slug. And here’s a tissue. Blow your runny nose.”

Kirk did as ordered. At least he felt slightly more in control.

“Jim, I had word from the Medicentre in Shikar today.”

“Unless it’s good news, I don’t want to know.”

“But you will, Jim. ‘Cos I’m going to tell you. I’m sorry, but you have to face the facts and now. Not sometime in the future.”

“Dammit! Please don’t preach to me!”

“Calm down for Chrissakes! You’re pulled up tight as a spring!”

“What the hell do you expect! All the entire galaxy full of fancy medi-centres and physicians, yet Spock’s still dying. What’s the point of listening to all those fucking reports? Negative reports! I just don’t want to know unless you can come up with something positive for a damn change! I’m very tired. G’night, Bones.”

McCoy’s blue eyes searched his face coldly. “Never thought that you, of all people, could be so utterly selfish.”

The condemnation sent shivers up his spine.

“I’m not…” he began to protest, but McCoy was determined to have his say.

“You are. And you wanna know why? Because you’re so full up with your own pain and grief, that you’ve shut Spock out. Can’t you think of him? Don’t you want to know what he’s feeling? I doubt very much that you’ve talked it out with him. Fucking each other is not going to solve problems. You are so screwed up with your own feelings, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid his.”  
Shame suddenly hit him with gut-wrenching force. He dared not look up at McCoy; just wanted to curl up someplace and hide.

McCoy’s voice went on relentlessly.

“Spock’s hurting inside, Jim. Oh, he’s not said. He never would, least not to me. But I know that guy. 

He’s become introspective, just like he was when I first met him. And it’s not his condition. It’s because of you.”

Kirk swallowed his emotion.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you’ve hurt.”

“I never thought. Too worried. Too depressed.”

“Yeah.” The doctor’s voice had mellowed, becoming kinder. “I guess we’re all guilty of that sometimes, ‘specially when something hurtful happens. But don’t forget, there is still hope. Never lose sight of that.”

“But how much?”

“Enough, okay. So one door shuts, another opens. The line they were pursuing at the Medicentre didn’t work out, but there’ll be others, and a helluva lot of people are working on it. Medicine is an optimistic science. People are involved so it has to be.”

“And in the meantime, what happens to Spock?”

“He’s holding his own. His blood picture is not too good, but I’m not going to bore you with the facts and figures. Some drugs are helping; otherwise, he’s quite well.”

“But for how long?”

“Jim, I’ve already said, I cannot predict that. But I’ll tell you this; don’t waste your time, either of you. 

Even if this had not happened, you should still not be wasting it. Life’s too short, too precious, in any circumstances. Make the most of it.”

Somehow, he managed to smile, if only wanly.

“Thanks for your advice, Bones.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to do something about it…like now?”

He smiled again, this time with more confidence.

“Sure. I’ll go see Spock.” He stood with determination. “G’night, Bones. And thanks.”

By now, it was late, the Starship quiet and on night-status. As he neared Spock’s quarters, he almost stalled with the excuse it was too late. Then he thought of Spock. Alone. Hurt. Rejected by his own appalling selfishness. He tapped lightly on the door, using their own special signal, and was pleased when it opened.

Spock was playing chess with his computer. Deliberately, he moved a pawn before looking up. His dark eyes met Kirk’s, burning with his own brand of condemnation.

“Good evening, Captain.”

“Hi, Spock!” Kirk re-joined, awkwardly attempting to sound casual, and knowing it had not quite come off. Uncertainly, he perched himself on the edge of a chair.

“I…err…I’m sorry I’ve not been better company. Guess I’ve been busy…Needed to catch up with things after so long…” His voice trailed off. Spock gave him another searching glance before picked up another chess piece. Choked, kirk caught his hand, took the chess piece from him and put it down.

“Spock, that was not true.” He confessed. “I’ve deliberately avoided you,”

“Yes.” Came the quiet agreement, “I know.”

Quite obviously, Spock was not going to help him out. He was on his own.

“I’ve been so goddamned fucking selfish. I hate myself. But truth is, Spock, I’m scared! Scared of facing the future without you. You mean so much to me.”

“The future will not go away, Jim. We both have to face it.”

“I’ve hurt you.”

“I cannot deny that.”

“Believe me, the last thing I ever wanted to do…”

In one smooth movement, Spock took both his hands into his own. There seemed all the love and warmth in the universe in that one simple gesture.

“I understand.”

Kirk had rarely known sincerity to be so amazingly beautiful. Impulsively, he hugged Spock close to him, and Spock held him tenderly, their love healing the hurt of the past few days. Eventually, Spock gave him a lingering kiss, and they parted. The Vulcan padded across to his cabinet, poured two glasses of P’nash and returned with them.

“Let us discuss our future now, Jim. We must, since there is no way to avoid it without causing pain.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a heavy sigh. “But where do we begin?”

“With you.”

“Why me? It’s you I’m concerned about, Spock.”

“You have the future. Mine could be limited.”

“Oh, please don’t!”

He shuddered, feeling cold despite the heat. But Spock was persistent now. And in his heart, he knew, he knew he was right.

“We must, T’hy’la.”

A thought that had given birth during his despair found a voice.  
“Spock, I need not claim my future. Our bond need not be broken.”

Spock shook his head. He had known deep down that agreement would not come.

“Two deaths for the sake of one is insupportable, and totally unnecessary.”

“You didn’t think that when you come to rescue me from the Klingons.” There was a trace of bitterness in his voice now. Not against Spock, but all the factors that had conspired against their happiness.

“Oh my love, I feel so gui8lty.Why did you risk it? If only…”

“And I would do it again. A calculated risk. Your life is precious to so many people, Jim. But especially to me.”

“Yours is to me!”

“Would you not have done the same for me?”

“Of course. In a heartbeat. You know that…but being hypothetical will not help. It’s you who put your life on the line for me…and lost… I doubt if I could go on living without you now. I doubt if I could. So, I’ve had other tragedies in my life and coped. But you were always there supporting me. Getting me through the bad times. Without you…”

“Jim, you will cope. You have such strength, something you developed before we met.”

“Coping is not the same as living!”

“It’s a beginning. You can rebuild from there. You must, T’hy’la. There is so much to give. So much to live for. If our bond means so much to you, then you will live for that, and for our love.”

He realised with sudden clarity that Spock’s way was right, was the only way. In a very real sense, Spock had sacrificed himself. Life was the only way he could repay that sacrifice. To keep their love alive and fresh.

Rebuild again.

A life without him…

And there was always hope. Hope until the bitter end. That too would be his life-line. He remembered the day of their reunion on Vulcan.

The presence was important.

Tomorrow, was another day…..

Eventually, he slept, safe and warm in his lover’s arms.

 

Jim was playing a game. A very serious and necessary game of hope, and Spock was careful to share it with him. His optimistic adage of tomorrow being another futuristic day.

He knew it helped Jim. And in some strange way, although illogical, it helped him too. Jim’s hope was so infectious, he thought affectionately. Like his intense enthusiasm, his smile, his immense capacity to love.

Jim, his golden warrior. His T’hy’la.  
Sometimes, he thought, his Vulcan heart would burst with happiness and joy… Until the future he may not have, crowded into his present. His anaemia caused by the destruction of his cells began to give him symptoms now. Unusual lethargy and breathlessness on exertion heralded the beginning of more intense therapy from McCoy.

“But we have a problem, Spock.” McCoy explained with a sigh.

“We?” Spock queried teasingly, but the doctor was in no mood to be drawn into one of their friendly arguments.

“You are a hybrid, Spock.”

“I am too well aware of that.”

“Yeah. Well, it causes problems. You need a blood transfusion, but if I give you next T-negative, it could kill you because of your human elements. It’s easy enough to take them out, as we did for your Father when you donated. But putting them in is another matter. The same with pure copper sulphate. It could make you ill. Very ill.”

“I am confident that you will find a solution, doctor. Even if it is with your beads, rattles and baubles.”  
McCoy smiled warily at this familiar but friendly taunt.

“Well, it’s not quite as bad as that – yet – fortunately. I have two litres of your blood which you donated some time ago for a ‘just in case’ scenario. I’ll be working on one litre at my lab. The other, I’ll be transfusing into you. I’ve also been busy …err.,. Doctoring a course of copper sulphate. That should keep you going for some time, at least until we reach the services and facilities of a Starbase.”

It was not surprising that McCoy looked so weary. Spock now he had spent many tiring hours in the lab. But he also knew that the doctor would not appreciate his gratitude at this stage. Quietly, he agreed to the transfusions and, with the minimum of fuss prepared himself for it.  
Four hours later, it was over and, after the burse had taped over the puncture wound in his arm, he was released from Sickbay, feeling decidedly better.

The other “treatment” however, was not so easily to cope with and from the first day of the prescribed course, he suffered uncomfortably low-grade nauseas which could only be eased by the alight healing trance, whenever the opportunity arose. At least the symptoms of anaemia were greatly diminished, enabling him to remain at work in his fully capacity.

Jim was most concerned. In fact, he fussed over him, something he would not have tolerated from anyone else. But, he realised that Jim needed to do something for him, no matter how small, even holding his head when nausea sometimes overcame him. His human, who would have been unhappy and frustrated had he been forced to allow the medics to take things out of his hands.  
Spock had to admit that he did not dislike Jim’s attentions, given so freely and warmly. Each thing so treasured dearly. The gentle massage after a long shift: the special titbits of food to tempt his appetite: the strong arms encircling him until he fell asleep: the deep affection showing clearly in his hazel eyes: the secret smiling glances on the bridge: the mind-bond, giving the ever-resent message of their love.

//I am here beside you. And I love you very very much.//

Four weeks after the start of the intensive courses of treatment, and after much exhaustive work by McCoy and his lab-staff, another therapy was initiated, tailored to his hybrid requirements. That not only controlled the anaemia, but also prevented the unpleasant side-effects of the original drugs. For the first time since his return from Vulcan, Spock felt fit and well.


	16. Medicentre

That evening, after a particularly exhausting and prolonged shift, Jim followed him into quarters as usual, and impulsively kissed him, hugging him with a fierce embrace. It was sometime before Spock managed to extricate himself: he did not really want to – despite the time he had been working, both on the bridge and the research lab, he felt particularly attuned to his companion.

It was his turn to ‘give’ tonight. During the long times he had felt too unwell for love-making, Jim had never pressed him into it. Had never even suggested it, even though his longing had made itself apparent through their bond. But tonight, he would give a gift of thanks for being so generous and   
understanding. His own gift of love.

“Undress, Beloved Vulcan.” Jim’s voice was gently teasing. “I will ease away your tension.”

Straight face, Spock did as requested, neatly folding up his clothes. But instead of climbing directly on the bed to await the delicious relaxing sensation of Jim’s fingers against his flesh. He gently pulled his bond-mate towards him, unfastened the green fold-over shirt and eased it off, watching with gladness the Human’s expression joy,

Lowering his head, he sucked the pink, sensitive nipples as his hands reached downwards to unzip the pants. He felt hard flesh, straining against the fabric of the briefs: imprisoned like a beautiful animal inside a cage.

Slowly and sensually, he set it free, and then dared himself to gaze upon the beauty. A proud, erect organ, rising from the thick matt of fine, dark hair. Firm balls, hanging free against the black back drop of pants and briefs. Jim’s hand went towards his own erection, but Spock restrained him.

“This is your night, Jim. Enjoy it.”

Kneeling, he took the testicles into his mouth, sucking, licking, and nipping. Contrasting textures, bathing them thoroughly with saliva, while Jim squirmed and moaned with joy, earning on his hands and onto Spock’s back to support himself.

“Go on, go on, go on …. No stop for Chrissakes! I’ll come!”

Spock released him reluctantly, pausing to lick the milky white drop of semen from the tip of Jim’s penis. The he completed the job of undressing Kirk. For long loving moments, they appraised each other while the fire inside of Spock diminished to a warm glow. His erection eased somewhat.

“Your night, T’hy’la. Anything you desire.”

“Anything?”

“Anything; whatever you ask of me, I will rejoice for pleasing you.”

“Anything, huh? ….Weeell, Spock, I know this sounds really corny and lacks imagination, but I want fuck you until you plead for mercy!”

Spock let out a short ripple of laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, Jim. Except it is corny. It does lack imagination…. And that is exactly what I wanted you to say. I want you to fuck me.”

“Language, Spock!”

“Any language with you would sound like poetry, T’hy’la.”

“Come then, romantic Vulcan. Let’s make poetry together.”

They prepared a bed on the floor. Jim had remarked many times that what they needed was an old fashioned King size bed. Only the sheer impossibility of transporting it onto the ‘Enterprise’ and to their quarters undetected to prevent gossip amongst the crew, prevented the purchase of such an object.

The ‘bed’ made, Jim pushed Spock playfully onto it, and then tumbled down beside him, his face glowing with love and laughter. But as he reached out to him, he suddenly became very serious.

“Spock…I don’t want to hurt you. I mean, you’ve not been well and I don’t want…”

“Hush, Jim. I feel well. Let tonight be our celebration!”

Jim laughed, very softly. “Our celebration!” he agreed before he locked his mouth onto Spock’s for a passionate kiss.

Suddenly, Jim very expertly tucked his arms around Spock’s waist and flipped him over onto his stomach, a hand stroking the warm flesh.

“Hmmm, you have a very neat ass.”

“I cannot say I have noticed.” he admitted truthfully.

“No. Guess not.”

Then he felt his legs being spread, his buttocks parted. The salve they had placed ready was spread liberally between the cleft, cool against his hot body. Jim’s hands gently massaged his back for a few seconds, easing away whatever tension was there. Always sharing. Always thinking of him.

True oneness…

Love…

The pressure of Jim’s body onto his own was most welcome. The hard shaft nosed gently inside. Cautiously at first, then with more confidence as Spock encouraged him by easing himself into a better position. Warm sensations, bitter-sweet. Burgeoning passion, intertwined by love. Hued colours bursting forth like Starlight upon a background of black. Fire and heat. Pain and pleasure.   
Love. Joy.

Sharing.

Jim came within him. A warm pleasant sensation. Jim had been fulfilled. That was all that mattered to him. But obviously, Jim had other ideas. After a few minutes, he pulled away and rolled Spock onto his back.

“Love yourself, Spock. Please let me watch you love yourself.”

He hesitated, suddenly inexplicably embarrassed. He had never masturbated before, Jim sensed his shyness. Gently and kindly he took Spock’s hand and placed it firmly onto his still erect penis.

“Go on. Experience it just once. My night, remember.”

Awkwardly at first, he began to smooth his hand up and down, curious more than aroused. But gradually, a deep sense of enjoyment crept in. The touch of his own flesh against his hand was new experience. Almost…sensual, a feeling that grew and blossomed as his hand moved faster, as the sensation grew. He marvelled at it all. Marvelled at Jim’s love. He had given him so much. Now this gift of learning. Never before had he considered his body in such a way.

Beautiful sensation…

Jim’s gift…

Oh Jim, my love…love you…love you

He climaxed, fluid spurting over his hand and belly. Smiling, Jim snuggled up to him.

“Was that good, Spock?”

“So good, Jim. So good.”

Lovingly, Jim smoothed away the hair from his forehead, than pulled a blanket over them both.

“Let’s sleep, Vulcan warrior. We will both dream of the pleasure and love to come.”

Starbase Four had an excellent Medicentre, renowned throughout the Federation and when, on account of Bones’s months of painstaking work into the causes and treatment of Spock’s condition, they agreed to take him for some short-term therapy.

Kirk’s hopes rose. Over the past weeks, Spock’s health had undeniably worsened, despite everything McCoy and his medical team could do.

Often, he looked alarmingly ill, but he insisted upon carrying out his duties as usual. And over the last month even he had agreed he was just not well enough to be included in landing parties or work that involved physical efforts. Quite clearly, his phenomenal strength was ebbing away from him.  
Kirk ate his heart out. Hating to be so helpless. Hating see his bond-mate slipping away from him in such a terrible way, and loathing, in a most passionate way, the race that had perpetrated this crime upon Spock’s body. He knew that his next encounter with Klingons would probably be his last. His own burning need for vengeance would make certain of that.

Spock seemed to take it all with his usual cool. Maybe too calm, though kirk. For although of necessity, their sex-life was non-existent now, they used their bond instead. A less demanding, but very beautiful way of expressing their love.

But always, there was a corner of Spock’s mind not open to him. And he knew that there was locked up all the turmoil, hurt and pain. Even now, Spock was protecting him.

Quite clearly, Spock was not fit for arduous Starfleet service. Anyone with half an eye could see it. Spock knew it; the bridge-crew knew it. Kirk knew it, and above all, McCoy knew it. Compassionate as ever, the doctor had no intention of giving his friend up into the charge of the faceless, unknown medics of some sterile Medicentre.

“While Spock lives,” he told kirk. “there is still a chance to cure him. Believe me, Jim; I’ll work myself into he ground to find the cure. But if I fail…then he should have the chance to die with dignity as a Vulcan, on Vulcan. That’s the very least I can do for him. To take him home.”

Kirk broke down and sobbed that night. Spock looked so ill, and McCoy’s words were all the more poignant because of it.

In the middle of his storm, McCoy quietly entered their quarters – unbidden for the first time ever…and enfolded them both in his loving and understanding arms, comforting and supporting them until the storm subsided.

Then, he gently insisted that they both rest. He remained with them until they fell asleep.

It was just three days later when Bones announced the special treatment available on the Starbase Four Medicentre. The technicalities went over Kirk’s head as hope blossomed.

“This is not a cure,” McCoy warned. As usual, Spock remained infuriatingly calm.

“I understand” he agreed quietly.

“But he’ll feel better won’t he?”

“Jim, we don’t know for certain. Hopefully, he will but there is a problem. The treatment is an intensive course over six days. For the duration, you could feel worse and for a period afterwards.”  
Spock gave an enigmatic smile “For years now, I have been aware that your medical treatment to be…spiritual.”

“Spiritual?”

“Your premise, doctor. ‘A little suffering is good for the soul’”

It was an attempt of friendly needling, at which Spock was so adept. McCoy grinned rocking on his heels.

“Well, at least it proves one thing, Spock.”

“Oh. What is that?”

“That even a Vulcan can possess a soul! Now excuse me, I have work to do.”

The ‘Enterprise’ reached Starbase Four a week later, and as soon as the Starship reached orbit, Kirk accompanied his two friends to the vast Medicentre.

But once there, he could do nothing, and reluctantly decided to let the medics get on with their job while he returned to the ‘Enterprise’ to get on with the backlog of paperwork. There was nothing else he could do aboard either, while the engineers, under the supervision of Scotty, were swarming all over her.

Spock looked tired and withdrawn when he arrived ‘home’ that evening, yet despite McCoy’s insistence; he refused a bed in Sickbay, preferring his own quarters.

“I’ll stay with you.” McCoy offered, but Spock was still insistent.

“There is no need. Thank you for your concern, but I will be perfectly alright.”

“Jim?” Bones appealed, but kirk was reluctant to go against Spock’s wishes.

“I’ll call you if I need you, Bones.” He promised gently, not wanting to hurt the doctor’s feelings. Of late, he had been a regular companion in their quarters and they genuinely enjoyed his company. Since the lovely incident on Vulcan, Bones had become even closers to them: part of them – an essential part, more so than ever before, when he had been on the fringe of their friendship.  
Fortunately, Bones did not take offence now. He had always known and accepted the fact that Kirk and Spock needed to be alone together. And he always knew when to take his leave.

“You just look after him real good, Jim Kirk, you hear that?”

“I promised. Don’t fuss, Bones!”

“Somebody’s got to! Spock – bed!”

“Yes, Doctor.” Spock promised solemnly and, satisfied McCoy departed.

Spock sagged wearily. His face looked grey and haggard/ Kirk helped him across to bed and began to undress him. Spock did not protest. He said nothing as Kirk helped him into bed.

“Is there something you need? Food? Drink?”

“No nothing. Except…” Spock took Kirk’s hand into his own. “Lay with me Jim. Let me feel our bond.”  
Somehow, Kirk swallowed his emotion. Spock needed peace through their bond, not emotion. Even so, it took considerable control to calm himself before lying close to his friend.

The thin body beside him was trembling. Circling with his arms, he drew Spock to him; warming him; loving him; opening his mind, he gave it freely. His precious gift. His love – a gift to his dear friend and beloved.

Three days into the treatment – and still two to go – it was obvious that Spock was being made very ill by it. Hollow-eyed, he could barely walk when he arrived back on the ‘Enterprise.’ This time, he did not object to being admitted to Sickbay for the night. He was vomiting, shivering, yet burning hot. Kirk stayed with him, stunned by the violence of the reaction, until, mercifully, he fell into a restless sleep, so ill he could not even initiate a healing trance.

Kirk went gunning for McCoy.

McCoy watched anxiously from his office window as Jim turned from Spock’s biobed and strode purposefully towards him. Mentally, he braced himself as the Captain rapped lightly on the door, and walked in unbidden. Not surprisingly, Jim looked haggard, Spock had vomited over his shirt and silently, McCoy gave him a wad of tissues.

“Bones, for God’s sake stop this madness! Please! He can’t take any more.”

“Jim, calm down.”

“Calm down! Doctor, Spock is very sick. He’s worse now than when he began your fucking treatment. Please call a halt to it!”

“There is just two more days to go. And it’s working, Jim. Please believe me, it is working!”

“Bones, he could be dead in two days! He can’t even hold down a cup of water!”

“He would be dead, at least within a few weeks, without it.”

Jim calmed down, somewhat. Miserably, he scrubbed at this soiled shirt with the tissues.

“Sit down a minute, Jim. Drink? Looks like you could do with one.”

“Thanks.”

McCoy poured two generous slugs of scotch, Jim gulped at his. Suddenly, he seemed so vulnerable, and McCoy felt a surge of fatherly love towards his friend. Even now, Jim was not mentally prepared for what might happen. He dared not think of what might happen to Jim if…when…

“Jim, I know it’s kinda rough right now. And please believe me; I hate to see Spock like this as much as you do. But it will be worth it. The treatment is working.”

He did not add that there could be a bonus; that it had been discovered that one particular element of the treatment appeared to be making the chemical toxins in Spock’s body regress more quickly than expected; that the short-term relief could turn out to be a cure.

It was not fair to build up the hopes of either Jim or Spock on such scanty evidence. Unfortunately, the drugs were far too toxic to be useful in the quantity required. There was still work to be done. 

Time was precious.

“I’m sorry for sounding off at you, Bones.” Jim apologised wearily.

“Don’t worry; I understand exactly what you are going through, Jim. Guess it’s best to give vent to your feelings on me rather than some poor, unsuspecting crew member. But just listen to me know. There is absolutely nothing you can do. For pities sake, take your-self off to your quarters, get yourself a shower and go to bed. Want a couple of pills?”

“No.” He stood up reluctantly, still reluctant to leave the nearness of his two friends. Then, he braced himself. “No.” he said again, more firmly this time. “Goodnight, Bones.”

“Good night, Jim. Just listen to your Uncle Len. Get some sleep.”

Worriedly, he watched his friend depart, then quietly padded into the semi-dark ward, and stood beside Spock’s medi-bed. He appeared to be asleep. At least he looked more peaceful now. Satisfied, he turned to leave, suppressing a yawn as tiredness hit him. It had been a long, hard day, mentally and physically.

He felt a hand on his arm. Startled, he turned back towards Spock, who was looking at him.

“Hi, Spock. How d’you feel?”

“Ill.”

“Well, that’s honest at least.”

“Doctor, tomorrow when I return to the medi-centre, I want to remain there until the end of the treatment.”

“What? Why? I mean - Spock, this is your home.”

“Can you arrange it?”

“Of course. But…aren’t you satisfied here?”

“Jim is the reason. He is upset. I would prefer to spare him the trauma of the effects this – treatment – has on me.”

Sighing, McCoy nodded, realising only too well what a selfless action that was on Spock’s part. Still hopelessly shy and inadequate with strangers who had to, of necessity, treat him with the intimacy he disliked, he would hate spending two days and nights at the Medicentre. But he was right, Jim could take no more.

“I’ll arrange that, Spock. Now get some rest.”

Spock settled down. McCoy knew he was only feigning sleep. But in the circumstances, he supposed it was better than nothing.

The two days in the Medicentre seemed to be the longest in Spock’s life, and ones he would prefer not to repeat. It went by in a hazy, semi oblivion as he was only vaguely aware of the strangers who frequently gathered by his bedside, either to give him further, and seemingly endless, drugs or to clean up after uncontrollable vomiting which the treatment subjected him to.

And he was aware of another presence: Jim’s bond, flowing into his mind at the times he most needed it, showing tenderness and love; giving him strength, warmth and purpose. Logically, he knew he would have survived without it. But he also knew that it would have more difficult to face the unknown alone.

The ‘Enterprise’…

He was more than pleased to return to her. Although he was too weak to walk without support, and felt so ill. His two friends had gone to some trouble to save him further embarrassment by equipping his quarters with everything he might require and since the base-engineers were still aboard, the ‘Enterprise’ was not due to leave orbit for another forty-eight hours; Jim and McCoy were able to undertake the task of caring for him, which was an immense relief.

Within twenty-four hours of stopping the treatment, the nausea thankfully diminished, and he felt the strength returning to him. Enough at least to make his own way to the head, and to sit out of bed long enough to enjoy a game of chess, or to partake – somewhat warily – of the high protein soup McCoy had prepared for him.

That evening, he indulged in something that brought back memories of childhood, when his mother would sit by his bed reading to him. Now, it was Jim sitting beside him, reading from one of his favourite books of poetry – in his expressive voice.

“My love hath wings.”

“Slender feathered things…”

//Oh Jim! I love you so much! Let me fly with you…//

//My love, hath wings…//

Spock slept.


	17. Trauma

That evening, after a particularly exhausting and prolonged shift, Jim followed him into quarters as usual, and impulsively kissed him, hugging him with a fierce embrace. It was sometime before Spock managed to extricate himself: he did not really want to – despite the time he had been working, both on the bridge and the research lab, he felt particularly attuned to his companion.

It was his turn to ‘give’ tonight. During the long times he had felt too unwell for love-making, Jim had never pressed him into it. Had never even suggested it, even though his longing had made itself apparent through their bond. But tonight, he would give a gift of thanks for being so generous and   
understanding. His own gift of love.

“Undress, Beloved Vulcan.” Jim’s voice was gently teasing. “I will ease away your tension.”

Straight face, Spock did as requested, neatly folding up his clothes. But instead of climbing directly on the bed to await the delicious relaxing sensation of Jim’s fingers against his flesh. He gently pulled his bond-mate towards him, unfastened the green fold-over shirt and eased it off, watching with gladness the Human’s expression joy,

Lowering his head, he sucked the pink, sensitive nipples as his hands reached downwards to unzip the pants. He felt hard flesh, straining against the fabric of the briefs: imprisoned like a beautiful animal inside a cage.

Slowly and sensually, he set it free, and then dared himself to gaze upon the beauty. A proud, erect organ, rising from the thick matt of fine, dark hair. Firm balls, hanging free against the black back drop of pants and briefs. Jim’s hand went towards his own erection, but Spock restrained him.

“This is your night, Jim. Enjoy it.”

Kneeling, he took the testicles into his mouth, sucking, licking, and nipping. Contrasting textures, bathing them thoroughly with saliva, while Jim squirmed and moaned with joy, earning on his hands and onto Spock’s back to support himself.

“Go on, go on, go on …. No stop for Chrissakes! I’ll come!”

Spock released him reluctantly, pausing to lick the milky white drop of semen from the tip of Jim’s penis. The he completed the job of undressing Kirk. For long loving moments, they appraised each other while the fire inside of Spock diminished to a warm glow. His erection eased somewhat.

“Your night, T’hy’la. Anything you desire.”

“Anything?”

“Anything; whatever you ask of me, I will rejoice for pleasing you.”

“Anything, huh? ….Weeell, Spock, I know this sounds really corny and lacks imagination, but I want fuck you until you plead for mercy!”

Spock let out a short ripple of laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, Jim. Except it is corny. It does lack imagination…. And that is exactly what I wanted you to say. I want you to fuck me.”

“Language, Spock!”

“Any language with you would sound like poetry, T’hy’la.”

“Come then, romantic Vulcan. Let’s make poetry together.”

They prepared a bed on the floor. Jim had remarked many times that what they needed was an old fashioned King size bed. Only the sheer impossibility of transporting it onto the ‘Enterprise’ and to their quarters undetected to prevent gossip amongst the crew, prevented the purchase of such an object.

The ‘bed’ made, Jim pushed Spock playfully onto it, and then tumbled down beside him, his face glowing with love and laughter. But as he reached out to him, he suddenly became very serious.

“Spock…I don’t want to hurt you. I mean, you’ve not been well and I don’t want…”

“Hush, Jim. I feel well. Let tonight be our celebration!”

Jim laughed, very softly. “Our celebration!” he agreed before he locked his mouth onto Spock’s for a passionate kiss.

Suddenly, Jim very expertly tucked his arms around Spock’s waist and flipped him over onto his stomach, a hand stroking the warm flesh.

“Hmmm, you have a very neat ass.”

“I cannot say I have noticed.” he admitted truthfully.

“No. Guess not.”

Then he felt his legs being spread, his buttocks parted. The salve they had placed ready was spread liberally between the cleft, cool against his hot body. Jim’s hands gently massaged his back for a few seconds, easing away whatever tension was there. Always sharing. Always thinking of him.

True oneness…

Love…

The pressure of Jim’s body onto his own was most welcome. The hard shaft nosed gently inside. Cautiously at first, then with more confidence as Spock encouraged him by easing himself into a better position. Warm sensations, bitter-sweet. Burgeoning passion, intertwined by love. Hued colours bursting forth like Starlight upon a background of black. Fire and heat. Pain and pleasure.   
Love. Joy.

Sharing.

Jim came within him. A warm pleasant sensation. Jim had been fulfilled. That was all that mattered to him. But obviously, Jim had other ideas. After a few minutes, he pulled away and rolled Spock onto his back.

“Love yourself, Spock. Please let me watch you love yourself.”

He hesitated, suddenly inexplicably embarrassed. He had never masturbated before, Jim sensed his shyness. Gently and kindly he took Spock’s hand and placed it firmly onto his still erect penis.

“Go on. Experience it just once. My night, remember.”

Awkwardly at first, he began to smooth his hand up and down, curious more than aroused. But gradually, a deep sense of enjoyment crept in. The touch of his own flesh against his hand was new experience. Almost…sensual, a feeling that grew and blossomed as his hand moved faster, as the sensation grew. He marvelled at it all. Marvelled at Jim’s love. He had given him so much. Now this gift of learning. Never before had he considered his body in such a way.

Beautiful sensation…  
Jim’s gift…

Oh Jim, my love…love you…love you

He climaxed, fluid spurting over his hand and belly. Smiling, Jim snuggled up to him.

“Was that good, Spock?”

“So good, Jim. So good.”

Lovingly, Jim smoothed away the hair from his forehead, than pulled a blanket over them both.

“Let’s sleep, Vulcan warrior. We will both dream of the pleasure and love to come.”

Starbase Four had an excellent Medicentre, renowned throughout the Federation and when, on account of Bones’s months of painstaking work into the causes and treatment of Spock’s condition, they agreed to take him for some short-term therapy.

Kirk’s hopes rose. Over the past weeks, Spock’s health had undeniably worsened, despite everything McCoy and his medical team could do.

Often, he looked alarmingly ill, but he insisted upon carrying out his duties as usual. And over the last month even he had agreed he was just not well enough to be included in landing parties or work that involved physical efforts. Quite clearly, his phenomenal strength was ebbing away from him.  
Kirk ate his heart out. Hating to be so helpless. Hating see his bond-mate slipping away from him in such a terrible way, and loathing, in a most passionate way, the race that had perpetrated this crime upon Spock’s body. He knew that his next encounter with Klingons would probably be his last. His own burning need for vengeance would make certain of that.

Spock seemed to take it all with his usual cool. Maybe too calm, though kirk. For although of necessity, their sex-life was non-existent now, they used their bond instead. A less demanding, but very beautiful way of expressing their love.

But always, there was a corner of Spock’s mind not open to him. And he knew that there was locked up all the turmoil, hurt and pain. Even now, Spock was protecting him.

Quite clearly, Spock was not fit for arduous Starfleet service. Anyone with half an eye could see it. Spock knew it; the bridge-crew knew it. Kirk knew it, and above all, McCoy knew it. Compassionate as ever, the doctor had no intention of giving his friend up into the charge of the faceless, unknown medics of some sterile Medicentre.

“While Spock lives,” he told kirk. “there is still a chance to cure him. Believe me, Jim; I’ll work myself into he ground to find the cure. But if I fail…then he should have the chance to die with dignity as a Vulcan, on Vulcan. That’s the very least I can do for him. To take him home.”

Kirk broke down and sobbed that night. Spock looked so ill, and McCoy’s words were all the more poignant because of it.

In the middle of his storm, McCoy quietly entered their quarters – unbidden for the first time ever…and enfolded them both in his loving and understanding arms, comforting and supporting them until the storm subsided.

Then, he gently insisted that they both rest. He remained with them until they fell asleep.

It was just three days later when Bones announced the special treatment available on the Starbase Four Medicentre. The technicalities went over Kirk’s head as hope blossomed.

“This is not a cure,” McCoy warned. As usual, Spock remained infuriatingly calm.

“I understand” he agreed quietly.

“But he’ll feel better won’t he?”

“Jim, we don’t know for certain. Hopefully, he will but there is a problem. The treatment is an intensive course over six days. For the duration, you could feel worse and for a period afterwards.”  
Spock gave an enigmatic smile “For years now, I have been aware that your medical treatment to be…spiritual.”

“Spiritual?”

“Your premise, doctor. ‘A little suffering is good for the soul’”

It was an attempt of friendly needling, at which Spock was so adept. McCoy grinned rocking on his heels.

“Well, at least it proves one thing, Spock.”

“Oh. What is that?”

“That even a Vulcan can possess a soul! Now excuse me, I have work to do.”

The ‘Enterprise’ reached Starbase Four a week later, and as soon as the Starship reached orbit, Kirk accompanied his two friends to the vast Medicentre.

But once there, he could do nothing, and reluctantly decided to let the medics get on with their job while he returned to the ‘Enterprise’ to get on with the backlog of paperwork. There was nothing else he could do aboard either, while the engineers, under the supervision of Scotty, were swarming all over her.

Spock looked tired and withdrawn when he arrived ‘home’ that evening, yet despite McCoy’s insistence; he refused a bed in Sickbay, preferring his own quarters.

“I’ll stay with you.” McCoy offered, but Spock was still insistent.

“There is no need. Thank you for your concern, but I will be perfectly alright.”

“Jim?” Bones appealed, but kirk was reluctant to go against Spock’s wishes.

“I’ll call you if I need you, Bones.” He promised gently, not wanting to hurt the doctor’s feelings. Of late, he had been a regular companion in their quarters and they genuinely enjoyed his company. Since the lovely incident on Vulcan, Bones had become even closers to them: part of them – an essential part, more so than ever before, when he had been on the fringe of their friendship.  
Fortunately, Bones did not take offence now. He had always known and accepted the fact that Kirk and Spock needed to be alone together. And he always knew when to take his leave.

“You just look after him real good, Jim Kirk, you hear that?”

“I promised. Don’t fuss, Bones!”

“Somebody’s got to! Spock – bed!”

“Yes, Doctor.” Spock promised solemnly and, satisfied McCoy departed.

Spock sagged wearily. His face looked grey and haggard/ Kirk helped him across to bed and began to undress him. Spock did not protest. He said nothing as Kirk helped him into bed.

“Is there something you need? Food? Drink?”

“No nothing. Except…” Spock took Kirk’s hand into his own. “Lay with me Jim. Let me feel our bond.”  
Somehow, Kirk swallowed his emotion. Spock needed peace through their bond, not emotion. Even so, it took considerable control to calm himself before lying close to his friend.

The thin body beside him was trembling. Circling with his arms, he drew Spock to him; warming him; loving him; opening his mind, he gave it freely. His precious gift. His love – a gift to his dear friend and beloved.

Three days into the treatment – and still two to go – it was obvious that Spock was being made very ill by it. Hollow-eyed, he could barely walk when he arrived back on the ‘Enterprise.’ This time, he did not object to being admitted to Sickbay for the night. He was vomiting, shivering, yet burning hot. Kirk stayed with him, stunned by the violence of the reaction, until, mercifully, he fell into a restless sleep, so ill he could not even initiate a healing trance.

Kirk went gunning for McCoy.

McCoy watched anxiously from his office window as Jim turned from Spock’s biobed and strode purposefully towards him. Mentally, he braced himself as the Captain rapped lightly on the door, and walked in unbidden. Not surprisingly, Jim looked haggard, Spock had vomited over his shirt and silently, McCoy gave him a wad of tissues.

“Bones, for God’s sake stop this madness! Please! He can’t take any more.”

“Jim, calm down.”

“Calm down! Doctor, Spock is very sick. He’s worse now than when he began your fucking treatment. Please call a halt to it!”

“There is just two more days to go. And it’s working, Jim. Please believe me, it is working!”

“Bones, he could be dead in two days! He can’t even hold down a cup of water!”

“He would be dead, at least within a few weeks, without it.”

Jim calmed down, somewhat. Miserably, he scrubbed at this soiled shirt with the tissues.

“Sit down a minute, Jim. Drink? Looks like you could do with one.”

“Thanks.”

McCoy poured two generous slugs of scotch, Jim gulped at his. Suddenly, he seemed so vulnerable, and McCoy felt a surge of fatherly love towards his friend. Even now, Jim was not mentally prepared for what might happen. He dared not think of what might happen to Jim if…when…

“Jim, I know it’s kinda rough right now. And please believe me; I hate to see Spock like this as much as you do. But it will be worth it. The treatment is working.”

He did not add that there could be a bonus; that it had been discovered that one particular element of the treatment appeared to be making the chemical toxins in Spock’s body regress more quickly than expected; that the short-term relief could turn out to be a cure.

It was not fair to build up the hopes of either Jim or Spock on such scanty evidence. Unfortunately, the drugs were far too toxic to be useful in the quantity required. There was still work to be done. 

Time was precious.

“I’m sorry for sounding off at you, Bones.” Jim apologised wearily.

“Don’t worry; I understand exactly what you are going through, Jim. Guess it’s best to give vent to your feelings on me rather than some poor, unsuspecting crew member. But just listen to me know. There is absolutely nothing you can do. For pities sake, take your-self off to your quarters, get yourself a shower and go to bed. Want a couple of pills?”

“No.” He stood up reluctantly, still reluctant to leave the nearness of his two friends. Then, he braced himself. “No.” he said again, more firmly this time. “Goodnight, Bones.”

“Good night, Jim. Just listen to your Uncle Len. Get some sleep.”

Worriedly, he watched his friend depart, then quietly padded into the semi-dark ward, and stood beside Spock’s medi-bed. He appeared to be asleep. At least he looked more peaceful now. Satisfied, he turned to leave, suppressing a yawn as tiredness hit him. It had been a long, hard day, mentally and physically.

He felt a hand on his arm. Startled, he turned back towards Spock, who was looking at him.

“Hi, Spock. How d’you feel?”

“Ill.”

“Well, that’s honest at least.”

“Doctor, tomorrow when I return to the medi-centre, I want to remain there until the end of the treatment.”

“What? Why? I mean - Spock, this is your home.”

“Can you arrange it?”

“Of course. But…aren’t you satisfied here?”

“Jim is the reason. He is upset. I would prefer to spare him the trauma of the effects this – treatment – has on me.”

Sighing, McCoy nodded, realising only too well what a selfless action that was on Spock’s part. Still hopelessly shy and inadequate with strangers who had to, of necessity, treat him with the intimacy he disliked, he would hate spending two days and nights at the Medicentre. But he was right, Jim could take no more.

“I’ll arrange that, Spock. Now get some rest.”

Spock settled down. McCoy knew he was only feigning sleep. But in the circumstances, he supposed it was better than nothing.

The two days in the Medicentre seemed to be the longest in Spock’s life, and ones he would prefer not to repeat. It went by in a hazy, semi oblivion as he was only vaguely aware of the strangers who frequently gathered by his bedside, either to give him further, and seemingly endless, drugs or to clean up after uncontrollable vomiting which the treatment subjected him to.

And he was aware of another presence: Jim’s bond, flowing into his mind at the times he most needed it, showing tenderness and love; giving him strength, warmth and purpose. Logically, he knew he would have survived without it. But he also knew that it would have more difficult to face the unknown alone.

The ‘Enterprise’…

He was more than pleased to return to her. Although he was too weak to walk without support, and felt so ill. His two friends had gone to some trouble to save him further embarrassment by equipping his quarters with everything he might require and since the base-engineers were still aboard, the ‘Enterprise’ was not due to leave orbit for another forty-eight hours; Jim and McCoy were able to undertake the task of caring for him, which was an immense relief.

Within twenty-four hours of stopping the treatment, the nausea thankfully diminished, and he felt the strength returning to him. Enough at least to make his own way to the head, and to sit out of bed long enough to enjoy a game of chess, or to partake – somewhat warily – of the high protein soup McCoy had prepared for him.

That evening, he indulged in something that brought back memories of childhood, when his mother would sit by his bed reading to him. Now, it was Jim sitting beside him, reading from one of his favourite books of poetry – in his expressive voice.

“My love hath wings.”

“Slender feathered things…”

//Oh Jim! I love you so much! Let me fly with you…//

//My love, hath wings…//

Spock slept.


	18. Sharing

“Spock” Jim asked, curling up beside him, his soft, sleek nakedness against his own skin. “If you could have one thing in the entire galaxy, what would it be?”

He smiled, so used now to Jim’s illogicality.

“To live. To fly with you on wings. To race with you across a sunlit beach. To live…” He smiled, touching the dear, familiar features. “But illogical.” He murmured softly.

He watched the hazel eyes come alive. Twin pools of light.

“Oh no, Spock, not illogical my love. Anything, anything, can be yours if you desire it. Come closer.  
Bring your face close to mine. Let me show you how to fly with me.”

Jim touched his temples with his fingers, initiating the meld, warm and relaxing.

At first, amazement took the edge off his relaxation. Jim was not a natural telepath. It must have taken days and nights of utter concentration to master the technique. All for him! Jealously, he allowed himself to be enveloped by the meld.

They were flying! Truly flying, soaring through the Earth’s blue summer skies as though on some joyful roundabout. As they flew higher, gaining confidence, Earth receded and they entered the infinity of space, confusing at first until the silver stars shone out of the darkness to guide them through the wonders of the heavens. They had floated free of their bodies now. Twin souls, free and unhindered, exploring the beauties and marvels of eternity. Soaring, floating, diving, ultimate freedom. Created by the caring joy of their love. The vision gradually faded. Their flight of fantasy among the stars was at an end and they returned reluctantly to reality. 

Jim’s entire body was glistening with sweat, yet for both of them; it had been worth the effort.

“Thank you, Jim. Your gift was beautiful.”

Jim caressed him lovingly and he enjoyed the tender moment as he watched hazel eyes dancing in the dim lighting.

“Today,” his bond-mate said very softly. “You flew with me. And I will give you the beach. The warmth and the sunlit. As for life….” A dark shadow marred Jim’s happy mood. 

Spock gave him a reassuring touch.

“T’hy’la, every day with you is life. Every breath I take worth of the effort, because you are with me. I do not ask for more. I am content.”

They kissed, and then lay in each other’s arms. ‘Tonight,’ Spock thought, ‘we have reached eternity. Oneness. Complete. Whole.’

“Bones, stay with us.”

Jim’s words seemed to numb McCoy’s senses suddenly. His head reeled slightly, and he lost the use of his tongue. He should not, he reminded himself, have gone to Spock’s quarters quite so late at night, but he wanted to tell Spock personally that the recent test results were good. Three months after the treatment on Starbase four, his condition remained stable. It was good to see him so well, and able to resume his duties once more.

Someone…he thought it had been Spock…had invited him into his quarters when he had knocked. But he had certainly not expected the sight of a makeshift bed of cushions and blankets on the floor. 

Spock was dressed in a magnificent robe, Jim in a more regular bath robe.

Strangely, it had shocked him, although he did not really know why. Maybe because of the obvious intimacy of their relationship that had always been closed to him before. Now this.

“Bones?” Jim prompted, and he shuffled awkwardly, unusually embarrassed.

“Aw, common Jim! What do you take me for?”

“Our friend.” Spock said quietly. “Please stay.”

“Look, it’s just not my scene. Thank you, but no.”

//Stay, you bastard! Stay! They want you too…you want too… don’t you? //

From beneath the pillows, Jim produced a spare bathrobe. Had they been expecting him? Jim tossed it across to him.

“Here! Put this on and make yourself comfortable.”

He stood there like a dummy, cursing his indecision. It was Spock who finally decided him.

“Bones, your integrity, and ours, will remain undamaged.”

//Damn fool, McCoy! How did you ever think otherwise? They’re your best goddamned friends. They, of all people, would never purposely embarrass you…

“Um…yeah/” he grinned sheepishly. “Thanks for the invite. I’ll…er…go make myself comfortable.”

He scurried, undignified, into the head, where he took off his uniform and donned Jim’s bathrobe, making a defiant gesture by keeping his briefs on. Quite why, he had no idea and felt angry with himself for doing so. He trusted them both absolutely; maybe it was himself he could not trust.

The sudden thought shocked him. He cursed himself silently, looking into the mirror.

//You had all this worked out, you stupid bastard! Months ago, after the Vulcan incident. And now, you get a friendly invitation to spend an evening with them, you start cross-examining your sexuality again. So maybe you take a woman to bed once in a blue moon these days, but that’s just age and lack of opportunity. Don’t mean to say you’ve changed the habits of a lifetime.//

//But I love them. I love them like they were my brothers.//

//So, would you take your own brother to bed, you crazy s.o.b? Hell no!//

//They are not your brothers.//

“Bones, you fell into the plumbing?”

Jim’s friendly inquiry from the other side of the door brought him out of his daydream. Pulling down  
the bathrobe as far as it could go, he opened the door and walked uncertainly back into Spock’s quarters.

He stared, surprised. The two of them had certainly been busy while he had been in the head. Now, there was plated food spread around, a decent bottle of brandy and red wine already poured into three glasses.

“Happy birthday, Bones.” Jim said, offering one of the glasses.

“What?” Dazed, McCoy took hold of the glass. “Dammit, how did you know? I’d even forgotten myself!”

“The fact was not difficult to ascertain.” Spock said coolly. “I believe ‘cheers’ is the correct word.”

“Cheers!” McCoy agreed, gulping at the wine.

“Actually,” Jim said. “Spock is being modest. It’s his birthday too, next week, so we thought…I mean… I thought a double celebration would be in order.”

“I didn’t know Vulcans celebrated birthdays.”

“They do not. But on occasion, I have to accede to Jim’s illogicality.”

“Don’t believe all he says!” countered Jim. “Vulcan do celebrate birthdays…like running around a desert at the tender ago of seven and circumcising themselves at nineteen. Personally, I prefer our way of celebration. Sit down, Bones. Enjoy yourself.”

Much happier now, McCoy settled himself down on the cushions, which were surprisingly comfortable. Feigning pain, he clutched his own crotch, glancing wickedly at Spock.

“You circumcised yourself!”

“It is considered infinitely preferable than having it performed by a surgeon, Doctor McCoy. At least when one does it oneself, it is done cleanly, efficiently and remarkably swiftly.”

“You bet it is!” he winked, grinning. “Well, bottoms up, Spock! And don’t feel too bad about your birthday! Remember, life begins at forty. And I hope more than anything else in the galaxy that it will be for you.”

“My life began years ago when Jim came aboard the ‘Enterprise’. Every day has been a bonus.”

“Glad to hear that, Spock.” He leaned back on his elbow. “Jim…he’s quite a guy. Yeah. Quite a guy!”

“Shut up!” Jim ordered good naturedly. “Just eat, you guys.”

“It’s good!” McCoy complimented his two friends between mouthfuls. “First time I’ve had a birthday party in…ooh, ever-so-long. Hell, I’d forgotten it was my birthday.”

“Glad to have helped you remember, Bones.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. Reminds me I’m getting old. But on the other hand, I really do appreciate all this. Thanks.”

“Have some more kaitu” Spock offered.

“Thanks. I wondered what the hell I was eating. Now I know…I think.”

Jim grinned. “Who cares, as long as it’s good.”

He leaned backwards and turned on the musicassette, the low background music made the meal all the more pleasant, and suddenly McCoy wondered what the hell he’d been worried about. Satisfied, and feeling pleasantly full, he pushed aside the empty plate and leaned back happily against the cushions.

“That’s a gorgeous robe you’re wearing, Spock. Any particular significance?”

“Yes, indeed. Jim bought it for me.”

“Hey, Bones!” interrupted Jim. “We have presents for you!”

He gave a mock groan. “Oh no! I can’t bear it! I don’t know what to say?”

“Unusual phenomena!” Spock remarked quietly, his voice tinged with amusement. Jim laughed.

“Take no notice of him! And don’t say anything, Bones. Just enjoy it. It is our thank you to you.”

Spock rose from the cushions and padded away. He returned moments later with a small blue box. Silently, Spock presented it to McCoy almost shyly. Equally embarrassed, he lifted the lid.

Inside was a Vulcan IDIC.

He really could not speak now. There was a lump in his throat that rendered hi8m speechless, especially when Spock took the IDIC from the box and placed it around McCoy’s neck.

He found his voice.

“I…I don’t deserve this, Spock.”

“You do. You have earned the right to wear it.”

His relationship with Spock seemed to flash before his eyes, in bright sharp pictures. The early and genuine animosity between them… then the grudging admiration…the slow, sometimes unwilling climb towards friendship and culminating in the ability to love the Vulcan who had once denied emotion.

Again, he could not speak. As if to make up for the deficit he placed a hand over Spock’s. And he knew the Vulcan understood.

“Bones,” Jim said, breaking the silence. “My gift to you is…um…different. An experience.”

“Guess I’m having a lot of those lately.” He confessed, feeling utterly overcome.

“It’s a special technique I learned. One only to be shared with special people. For you. For Spock. Come closer to me. I will only need to touch your forehead. Spock, hold my hand and make the circle complete. Bones, hold Spock’s hand.”

Instead, Spock took his hand; this Vulcan who usually disliked touching. His warm, dry fingers held his hand in a firm and strong embrace. Jim sensed his tenseness.

“Bones, relax.” He commanded gently. “It will be alright, I promise.”

He did relax then, and sensed that Spock was helping him to do so. His closeness had an intensely calming effect upon him. Slowly, he became aware that something was touching his mind. Reaching out to him, in a gesture of love and companionship. And now he was relaxed enough to allow the experience to come to full fruition.

‘Experience’ was hardly the word for the bright, bursting wreaths of colour; the breath taking beauty of starry light and slowly turning worlds, of an entire universe of awe-inspiring vision which seemed to expand his own horizons into the fantastic realms of the unknown. 

Then, gradually, the vision faded and the touch-link to his mind withdraws, lightly caressing his mind as it did so. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, returning to reality.

Jim was sweating profusely. He had sagged wearily, and McCoy realised what it had taken in terms of physical energy. There was a long pause while Jim regained his breath. At length, McCoy broke the silence.

“I’m not sure what to say.” he confessed. “To either of you.”

“Then do not say anything.” Spock suggested solemnly, and McCoy smiled.

“Well, thank you anyway. I know it’s not much if a speech. I guess I’m not kinda used to that sort of thing. Haven’t had much cause to celebrate birthdays in the past few years. This one is truly the best I can ever remember. Your gifts…your friendship…your love…” He swallowed a large lump in his throat, hopefully quelling the rising tide of his emotion. Very gently, Jim squeezed his hand.

“Hey, Bones! Don’t cry on us.” He pleaded kindly. “I at least, might cry with you. Look, there’s still some wine left. Let’s make ourselves comfortable for the night until ships dawn. I’ve always wanted that. Just the three of us.”

It was just at ‘Dawn’ the day status in the routine of Starship life – when McCoy finally departed to his own cabin, having spent the most pleasant night of his entire life. Happily, he kicked off his boots and flung himself on the bed. Soon, he felt himself drifting off to sleep, made peaceful by the continued presence of his two friends.

“See,” declared Jim “I told you I would find our sunlit beach to run across.”

Spock solemnly agreed. They lay together on an enormous bed, looking out of the window of the cottage that Jim had somehow found for their vacation. As dusk fell, they could still make out the broad stretch of golden sand leading down to the ocean, where waves gently washed the shore. It was a lovely vista. But it was late, and they would have to wait until the next day to venture onto the beach.

Jim enfolded Spock in his arms. “Hmmm, I like this. Tonight, let’s snuggle.”

“Snuggle?” Spock asked, and Jim laughed.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know how to snuggle. You’ve snuggled often enough.”

“Oh yes…that’s so very very true, T’hy’la.” He agreed, wriggling further down the bed, his hands seeking the pleasure of holding Jim’s penis in his hands, stroking it lovingly into life, his own stirring as though from sleep.

“Oh, Spock! I could look at you forever, and still not be bored. It’s like…like…” He fought for the right word. “like…”

“Poetry,” Spock supplied.

“Yeah, life poetry.”

“But forever is an eternity, T’hy’la. I could not bear to wait that long.”

Almost shyly, they touched each other, teasing each other’s secret places. Jim’s hands smoothing over Spock’s long body in sensual movements, until he reached the firm ripeness of the Vulcan’s organ.

“Aah..” Jim breathed, and then felt Spock’s restraining hand over his own.

“Hold,” came the gentle order. “We will kiss each other into arousal.” He began to lick and tease until Jim squirmed with joy at the beautiful feelings his bondmate was creating.

Stretching down, Jim swung his tongue in an arc over Spock’s firm belly, downwards to where the penis gently nudged him. Now, Spock was squirming.

“Jimmmm…” Spock pleaded once more, quivering now, moaning in pleasure. Abandoning his own ministrations as Jim took his shaft into his mouth, sucking hungrily. Jim began to milk arithmetically, enjoying without any sense of guilt he held over his empowerment over Spock’s emotions.

The quivering became more intense. Suddenly Spock’s whole body seemed to arch as he climaxed, with shuddering force.

After a few lingering moments, Kirk licked the already softening shaft. Spock turned to face him.

“Remember,” he asked “When you taught me how to love myself? Please do it to yourself. For me.”

Jim nodded agreement. Only for him. “Anything for you, my beloved.”

With his bond mate looking on, it did not take long, and he was surprised at the amount of pleasure he received by this simple act. Spock’s deep, dark eyes registered love and gratitude. As he came, he drew Spock close, linking their hands.

//Free and beautiful. Dear God, let it remain so…//

“Now we must snuggle,” Spock said.

“Yes, let’s snuggle.”

Spock hugged him.

“How do I love thee” Spock quoted in a hushed whisper. “Let me count the ways.”

An amused smile on his lips, Kirk responded “Shakespeare? My lovely Vulcan, quoting Shakespeare?”  
“Romeo and Juliet, I believe.”

“How did you know that?”

“My mother, who else? She had an ancient book containing most of his plays written in very old English, which was difficult for me to read, so she found me a book translated into Vulcan. I read them all.”

“More than I did. At school, we did Macbeth, of course. Did you know that the mention of the name Macbeth in the theatre would bring bad luck? Total illogical, of course.”

Laughing now, Jim bent forward to kiss his bondmate.

“Spock, you constantly amaze me!”

“And did you know,” Spock continued, as they pulled out of the tight embrace “about King Richard the Third?”

“Er…no.” Kirk confessed, and was certain the Spock was about to inform him.

He did.

“King Richard was killed at the Battle of Bosworth. He was later buried by the Grey Friars, in a place at their grounds in a nearby city, but it was a secret burial, and no-one knew where.”

“Centuries later, poor Richard’s body was found in what had become a car park.”

“A car park, eh? Not very regal, was it?”

“Indeed not. I always had sympathy for Richard. He was…different, and incidentally, I never believed he killed the Princes in the Tower. That was a plot perpetrated by his enemies. But he was much maligned. Isolated. Rather like myself…”

“Spock, you’ll make me cry.”

“Please do not. He is at peace now, properly interred, as the King he once was, in a cathedral close to where his body was found. As I am at peace now, safe in your arms. I would like one day to go and pay homage to Kind Richard.”

Kirk laughing kindly drew Spock close to him again.

“Well perhaps one day, when we are close to Earth, we can make a pilgrimage to your King Richard.” 

Spock nodded sleepily. “That would be so good, Jim.”

“And I do love thee.”

“I will count the ways…”

Finally they slept, wrapped in each other’s arms.

The sun was shining when they woke up next day, warm and inviting, dappling the beach with soft undulating patterns of golden brightness. They ate a relaxed breakfast on the patio of the cottage, and then contented themselves for a while on the loungers, soaking up the sun while Kirk read aloud from their favourite poetry book. It was almost noon before they finally stirred, hot and lazy and eager to cool off in the gently lapping waves of the ebb-tide.

Half-way to the ocean, Spock came to an abrupt halt, almost jerking Kirk off his feet. Laughing, he spun round, showering golden specks of sand over his feet.

“Hey, cummon! Don’t give me that rot about not liking to swim…”

His sentence was cut off midway, hanging heavy in the air. He caught a glimpse of Spock’s horror-stricken face.

“Spock…Spock!”

His bond-mate toppled heavily onto their golden sand, limbs jerking convulsively, eyes rolling, choking on the all-invasive sand, in his mouth and nose. Suddenly, the sun was no longer a friend; it became an enemy, beating down on his contorting body.

Now Kirk felt seconds of blind, terrifying panic. Stunned, he watched blood and saliva dribble from the Vulcan’s mouth onto the sand.

//Jim, help me!//

The desperate plea through the mind-bond exploded his panic. He dropped to his knees beside his stricken friend, the convulsion ending in a violent spasm.

Blood – God alone knew where it was coming from – spurted from Spock’s mouth in an endless stream, as Kirk somehow managed to put him into a recovery position. Tears of utter helplessness streamed down his face. It seemed to last forever, the terrible draining of Spock’s life-source. Over an eternity, it slowly ceased to flow, ending with a long, shuddering sigh.

//Jim…thank you for…being my friend…It is over…//

“No! No! No!” Kirk screamed into the blueness of the sky, ripped apart by total and utter blackness; sucked into the void that must be the reality of death.

With strength Kirk never knew he possessed, he laboured against it; struggled with it, wrenching it away from his own mind, and from Spock’s, as though it was a horrific nightmare of reality.

Pain…white hot, searing agony. Holding his head between his hands, he screamed.

Sanity abruptly returned and he relievedly realised that – for the time being at least – the awful spectre of death had been driven away. Beside him, Spock looked terrifyingly pale and weak. Sweat oozed from every pore, his breathing shallow and laboured – classic signs of shock.

“Spock, I must get help. Our communicators are at the cottage. I’ll call the med-team and be back just as soon as I can. Oh my love, hold on. Please hold on.”

Weakly, Spock nodded his understanding. Very briefly, Kirk kissed the damp forehead, touched the finger-tips goodbye, then stood up and began to race across their sunlit beach toward the cottage and Spock’s lifeline: his communicator and McCoy,

//Live! Live! Live!//

His heart, his drumming feet, his entire body pounded out the single word.

//Live! Live!//

By the time he reached Speck’s side once more, the med-team from the ‘Enterprise’ had beamed down. Oxygen, blood, life support… Exhausted, Kirk collapsed in hazy oblivion onto the golden sands of the sunlit beach…

Sighing heavily, McCoy straightened up from where he had been bending over Spock’s intensive-care medi-bed. Sedated, the Vulcan was now at rest in a heavily drugged sleep. His vital signs had stabilized now and the haemorrhage from his lungs had been arrested, but it had been a close call. 

Too close.

Satisfied that his patient was now out of immediate danger and that the current transfusion of T-negative was progressing, he handed over to Doctor M’Benga and made tracks to his office.  
Jim looked dreadful. He had not moved from the office since they had all been beamed aboard. His collapse had been momentarily and he had refused a bed in Sickbay. Now, standing forlornly in a corner, his shorts still spattered with Spock’s blood and sand still gritty in his tousled hair, McCoy felt guilty for neglecting him for so long.

“Jim, he’s okay right now. You look all in. Why not go take shower and get some rest?”

Wearily, Jim shuffled to a chair and sat down.

“This is all my fault, Bones. All mine.”

“Oh come on, Jim…”

“He was doing so well…” his voice broke. McCoy pulled up a chair and sat beside him, placing a hand over the clenched fists.

“Jim, none of this is your fault.”

“The sun was shining. We found our beach and the sun was shining. Would you believe that? It was beautiful. A new experience, you see? At least for Spock. But by the time we reached the edge of the ocean…”

“Jim, nothing that happened yesterday was your fault. It would not have made the slightest difference, believe me. Spock’s condition had already regressed I’d told him only a few days ago.”

A look of condemnation came into Jim’s eyes.

“You KNEW! You knew and didn’t warn me? In heaven’s name why? I thought he was better…cured..”

“Just calm down, please. I admit I was not happy about it – not even happy about this vacation. But it was Spock who pleaded with me not to tell you yet. He said there was nothing else in the universe he wanted but to share that with you. And he wanted you to be happy without a cloud hanging over your time together. I understood his reasons. I think maybe you do too.”

Jim nodded. “Yes, I do understand. If the role was reversed, I’d do the same for him. I’m sorry, Bones. I just feel so shattered/ Just when I though the nightmare was really over…” He looked up. 

“I’d like to see him now.”

“Later. Right now, he’s heavily sedated. Let him sleep. In a few hours, you can visit him. Look, you’re still in shock yourself. Go to your quarters and get a shower. I’ll come round in a few minutes time.”  
Much to McCoy’s relief, Jim agreed and departed silently, shoulders hunched. A dejected weary figure.

Once alone, McCoy put in a call to his old friend, Craig Freemen, conveniently based at the medi-centre on the Starbase attached to the planet the ‘Enterprise’ was now orbiting. Craig, the Director of the Medical Services there, knew the reason for McCoy’s call. The two of them had discussed Spock the day before.

Arrangements had already tentatively been made, and within a few minutes form plans were agreed upon. Relieved, McCoy went to satisfy himself that Spock was still holding his own, and then made his way to Kirk’s quarters.

Jim had showered, and was pacing the floor like a caged animal, his clenched fist slamming into his other hand.

“Here, take this.” McCoy said, offering a sleeping pill and when Jim showed reluctance, he pushed it into his hand. “Take it! That’s an order, mister! And get to bed before you fall down! I don’t really want another causality!”

Firmly, he took Jim by the arm and led him to the bed. Obediently, Jim climbed in and laid back, almost thankfully against the pillow, his features pale and drawn.

“Can I talk, Bones?”

“Sure you can, I’ll listen, at least until you fall asleep. What about?”

“Death.”

“Aw, common now!” he pleaded, but Jim seemed instant.

“I saw it today. Felt it. Lived it. Y’see, our bond ties us together. To life and death. Only for a few seconds. A minute at the most: but it was there. Real. Tangible.”

“Jim, you were in shock. Many people in that state experience those kinds of feelings.”

“No. It was more than a feeling. Long before all this, we agreed that should anything happen to either of us, we would try to sever the bond just before death. The loss of two lives for the sake of one would be waste. But it all happened so quickly, Bones. Spock was so overwhelmed he could not severe the bond. He was dying. For an instant, he did die. I felt myself going under with him, and I had to fight like hell. Not for me, for HIM. I couldn’t let him die on a lonely beach. Without dignity, Not Spock…”

Tears began to well up in Kirks eyes. He looked so desperately tired and sad. But McCoy let him talk no, realizing the release of emotion would help him temporarily.

“Y’know Bones, it was all too easy to talk about the severance of our bond. It was always too far away…then. But now, I know, I know. I don’t want our bond to be broken. I just cannot live without 

Spock. It’s as simple as that.”

There was no point in talking Jim out of it, especially at that particular moment, when everything was so starkly fresh in his mind. Gently, McCoy pulled up the cover.

“Go to sleep, Jim. Got some rest.”

“Spock…he needs you, Bones.”

“Not at the moment. He’s being very well looked after by M’Benga. I’ll stay here with you for a time.”  
There was a grateful look in the hazel eyes. Within five minutes, Jim had fallen into a drug-induced  
sleep.

Over the night, Spock’s condition stabilised enough to reduce the amount of sedation he was receiving, which at least made him able to think and talk rationally. Characteristically, his first thought was for Jim.

“He saved my life, Doctor McCoy. And his own, although I doubt if he was thinking of that at the time.”

“No, I think not, Spock. All he was thinking about was you.”

“Never the less, he brought me back from the brink of death. Please do not think I am ungrateful. 

During the last few years, Jim has given my life meaning. There was so much to lose. So much to  
learn.”

“Spock, you’re still very weak,” McCoy said, eyeing the medico at the end of the bed. “Please try to rest…”

“Jim must not do that again.”

“What? Save your life?”

“Not in that fashion. Dangerous…painful…terrible”

“Spock, it happened. It’s over now. You are here, Jim’s here, so quit worrying. It’s…illogical!”

There was a ghost of a smile on Spock’s lips. He seemed to relax against the pillow.

“I am weak. And tired.”

“So rest. I’ll go see Jim. M’Benga’s here, looking after you real good. Maybe later, he can come and see you.”

When he entered Jim’s quarters, he was pleased to see that the Captain had made an effort. He was already dressed in his uniform, and was obviously preparing himself to get on with his work, and being the Captain of the ‘Enterprise’. Always the professional, McCoy thought. If the whole world crashed around him – and it nearly had – he would still get up and get on with the job.

“Bones! I was just about to call you! How’s my First Officer?”

“Better than a few hours ago,” he admitted non-committedly.

“So can I go see him now?”

“Now hold on there, Jim!” I said better than hours ago, but which still means he’s sick – very sick.” 

Their eyes met. “Look, I’ve made plans, and I should tell you about them. Sit down, please. You’re making me nervous pacing up and down like that!”

Jim sat, making a helpless gesture with his hands.

“Jim, I’m taking Spock to Vulcan. I think it’s his only hope. Thanks to all the research it could be possible to cure him – with reservations. The drugs are still toxic…”

“So why didn’t you us them before?” he demanded.

“For the reason I’ve just stated. They drugs are dangerous, and while he remained well, we couldn’t take the risk.”

“Bones, he nearly died yesterday!”

“Jim, medicine is similar to your own job. We have to take calculated risks. Unfortunately, the risks concern precious life. We still don’t know how the drugs will react…or how Spock will react. But now, we have no choice. Vulcan is the best place for obvious reasons. And I did promise to take him home if his condition deteriorated. There’s a warp-drive medi-unit ship already standing by. Spock and I will transfer in four hours’ time.

“So soon…No, I didn’t mean that. I mean…Oh hell! I have to go too. I can’t just let him go like that…if anything happened…He’s so sick. I’m his bondmate. I can’t leave him.” Jim’s voice dropped to a whisper. Tears shimmered in his eyes. “I love him so, so much. I need him, Bones. Need him like I need to breathe. I must go to Vulcan. I must be close to him.”

“Could you arrange that? It’s not much time.”

Jim’s chin came up, jutting out in a way that McCoy knew to be determination. He knew that the captain would be on the medi-shop with Spock…someway…somehow, even if it meant jeopardising his precious career. Spock was the important to him and he would rather lose his beloved ‘Enterprise’ than be without him. It would serve no purpose to talk him out of it. He also realised he did not want to. Maybe, he thought, there was a little something he could do.

“I’ll arrange it.” Jim said firmly, and McCoy nodded.

“Sure you will.” He made a move to go, and then changed his mind as he reached the door.

“Jim, try to get your leave the legal way if possible eh?”

Again, Jim nodded. McCoy took his leave, as Jim hurried to Sickbay.

“Spock, my love, I’m coming with oy. I can’t give you much, except my love and strength of the bond.  
What I have, is yours.”

Spock smiled. He looked so desperately pale and weak. The skin of his hand, when he put it out to touch Jim’s own was almost transparent. Their fingers locked together in a gesture of Oneness.

“Jim, I am more than pleased…that you will be with me. I need you; your presence can only help me.  
Our bond gives us strength. But the Enterprise cannot be without two Senior Officers…your leave…”

“Mr Scott is in charge. He is senior enough. And leave has been approved. I‘m coming with you. That is that.”

He did not tell Spock of the traumatic half-hour he had just spent with Commodore Nogura who virtually refused point-blank to grant the leave he so desperately needed. Nor did he say he almost told the commodore to stick the job - and Starfleet, where the sun don’t shine, when Scotty came to his rescue, undoubtedly aided and abetted by McCoy, Scotty’s old friend.

Had Scotty really been working on important modifications to the ‘Enterprise’? Probably, knowing Scotty, but it was doubtful he had to give his beloved engines a shake-down. NOW!

Fortunately, Scotty’s influence in engineering circles was prodigious. Anything he did was prestigious to Starfleet as a whole. So Scotty had got his way, as usual, and permission was given to him to take the ‘Enterprise; out with a skeleton crew of engineers for a four week series of trials. And Kirk had gotten his leave. 

And Kirk had gotten his leave.


	19. Going forward

“Thank you so much, Scotty,” he had said, but the engineer had required no thanks.

“Aye,” he had said enigmatically, and then returned to his precious engines. 

All he told Spock was of engineering trials and that seemed to satisfy him, although he must have realised the improbability of the coincidence.

“T’hy’la….”

“Yes Spock?”

“You ease me so much. My joy in you has not diminished. I am sorry about our beach, though. It was so sunlit yesterday. So golden.”

“There will be other beaches, my love.” He promised. “With other suns to warm them. And we will visit them all.”

Spock smiled for Jim. “Always so illogical, T’hy’la”

“Yeah, guess so,” he agreed softly. “Nice though isn’t it?”

“Hmm,” Spock agreed sleepily and gave Jim’s hand an extra squeeze, just before they were interrupted by a bustling Nurse Chapel. Kirk always found her irritating. Now, the irritation was worse than usual.

Spock pulled a wry face as she fussed around him.

“I’ll …err…go and pack.” Kirk offered.

“Oh, you needn’t go, Captain.” Chapel said.

“No, please stay.” Spock re-joined, half joking. “I may be in need of protection.”

“But not mine!” he strode quickly towards the door, quelling a laugh “I’m sure Chris will tend to your every whim very well indeed.”

Quickly, he departed before he could catch sight of Spock’s expression.

The hospital ship, although small by most Federation standards, was well equipped, and with powerful warp-drive engines. As soon as Spock had been transferred to the ward, they could feel the vibrant thrust and the surge of the warp.

The transfer had unsettled Spock. His whole body throbbed with pain, he felt weak and lethargic, and waves of nausea began to trouble him. McCoy had hoped to begin a low-dosage of the drug, but decided to defer it for twenty-four hours until he was settled into his new surroundings. Instead, he offered powerful sedation, which Spock refused. He disliked intensely the drugged euphoric feeling it gave to him.

Besides, there was Jim: his love, the only euphoria he ever required.

Jim came to him, loving him with a single glance of his expressive hazel eyes and the gentle touch of his hand against his face. Through their bond, he felt such tenderness and comfort that his discomfort diminished rapidly. Oneness encircled them. Soon, Spock was able to sleep.

They were alone, the first time since their traumatic walk along the beach. After forty eight hours, Spock had felt strong enough to sit out of bed, and McCoy had promised them a few precious hours to themselves. Releasing Spock to Kirk’s care and their cabin, for one night only.

Supposedly, they were playing chess. But neither of them was concentrating on the game. Spock could feel the aura of Jim’s longing to touch and be touched through their bond. After a few minutes, not able to bear the feeling any longer without doing something positive about it, Spock pushed away the chess table separating them, learned forward and gave Jim a lingering kiss on his mouth.  
When he came out of it, he saw that Jim’s eyes were full of concern for him. Yet he wanted nothing to break up the atmosphere that his impulsive act had created, so before Jim could protest and warn him that his strength might not be up to anything, he guided his bond-mate onto the nearby bed. Then, as they lay down, he reached to pull Jim into a firm embrace.

“Spock, take care…” Jim protested, breathlessly as they came out of it. “Please, please take care…”

“We have just a few hours together and time has never been so precious to me. The door is locked against intruders, and we feel so much longing for each other. I promise I will not break in two. Your touch gives me strength…and so much happiness I never thought to experience.”

Smiling and reassured, Jim settled back onto the bed. “I always thought I was the impulsive one, Spock.”

“It must be highly contagious,” Spock murmured, as his hand glided over the silky skin beneath the shirt, his probing fingers quickly finding the nipple to tease erect. “A most satisfying contagion,” he said.

“Hmmm…” Jim agreed dreamily, as he reached back to his bond-mate. His hands deftly unfastened the pyjamas and slid them downwards to where the flowering manhood reached out to him. Stroking along Spock’s erecting penis, in an unselfish, loving act, and expertly executed to bring maximum pleasure.

Sighing happily, Spock shifted his position slightly to undo the restricting pants and enable his own hand to slide into the moist warmth of Jim’s groin.

With a sense of wonder that had never left him since their first time together, he explored Jim’s silky-smooth shaft, from the base nestled between the two testes, to the tip, which was moist and lubricated with drops of semen. Unable to resist anymore, he turned on the bed and moved to nestle his face between Jim’s legs, taking the swollen penis in his mouth. Then he felt Jim’s tongue, tasting and teasing before taking his own penis into the wonderful mouth, sucking powerfully.

Pleasuring each other…giving love and tenderness. Giving with every fibre of their beings.

//Oh make me live to give again! Please make me live…//

Jim’s body arched. With a moan, he came, semen spurting into Spock’s mouth. Briefly, he savoured the taste, and then he swallowed hard. Life! Jim’s life…his very own elixir. The production of their co-joining.

His own climax began: warm, fulfilling, overwhelming. The heat flowed into his penis, traveling along the shaft, exploding in multiple sensations into Jim’s mouth. The cycle complete. Both given and received with love.

Jim stirred reluctantly. “We’d best …err… put ourselves together again before our time runs out. I’d hate to think what Bones would say if he caught his prize patient like this.” He rose up on an elbow to look down. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I feel tired,” Spock admitted truthfully. “But it is a most pleasant weariness.”

Jim brushed his lips against Spock’s cheek, then scrambled off the bed and pulled up his pants. He gave a mischievous grin. 

“I want to pee!”

“How predictable you are!”

“And I’m hungry.”

“Again, predictable. You always are!”

“So, I’ll go and pee. Then raid the galley. Anything you fancy!”

“You!”

“Again?”

“No, not in that way. Just you. To be close to you.”

Jim reached to cup Spock’s face and kissed him warmly. “Mmmh, now I really am hungry. What shall I get you?”

“According to McCoy, I’m what he calls ‘nil by mouth’”

Jim laughed. “Well, I’ll let you explain that one to him.”

Spock sighed. “Jim!”

He pushed Jim away. “Please go to the head, before you burst. Then raid the galley and hurry back to me. We can then read the new poetry tape together.”

“Sounds like a great idea. I’ll hurry, Spock. I promise.”

Jim was singing as he departed into the head. His bladder relieved, he went in search of the galley and returned brushing the crumbs from around his mouth. Spock had set up the tape and set it running as Jim lay down on the bed beside him.

A lovely sense of warmth and wellbeing seemed to surround them both, as Jim read aloud the words of the first poem, entwining their fingers in a warm grasp.

Long before the end of the poem, Spock was peacefully asleep.

The following morning, McCoy initiated a low-dose treatment of the drug, the idea being to gradually build up Spock’s tolerance, before the full-dosage treatment began.

McCoy had already delayed as long as he dared. Spock had needed a respite to acclimatise him to this drastically altered situation. He also needed time to be alone with Jim…possibly the last time they would have for some time.

‘Perhaps for…..’ McCoy refused to give thought to that last word. Forever is eternity. His business was life, not death and it mattered to him now more than anything in the galaxy. Sometimes, he wished he could believe in a God. It would help to pray, he often thought in the silence of his quarters. But he had not found comfort in that for many years. For him, it would be a futile gesture.

At least Spock was happy and contented after his few precious hours with Jim, and more relaxed since his collapse on the beach. At first, when McCoy had left the two of them, he had experienced a familiar and unwelcome pang of jealousy. But he had quickly shaken it off. Jim and Spock had given him more happiness and sense of belonging than he had felt for years. At least on this occasion, he could give them something even if it was only a few brief hours alone.

Whether the lower dosage of drugs suited Spock better, or he was more mentally prepared, McCoy could not tell. However, this level seemed to be tolerated more, which delighted Jim. But McCoy was obliged to issue words of caution.

“It’s not over yet, Jim. Not by a long way. The treatment he’s having now is just a holding dose, not a cure. Hopefully, he’ll get that on Vulcan…but even that is not certain.”

“Bones, I have hope. Now, more than ever before. Please don’t take that from me!”

“I’m not, believe me, Jim. I just don’t want you to have false hope, that’s all.”

Jim sighed heavily, and then he straightened himself up, his characteristic optimism returning. “My hope is not false, Bones. I know it, here.” He tapped the left side of his chest. “I’ve got to go now. Got a date with a lovely Vulcan. See you around, huh?”

Almost jauntily, Kirk walked away.


	20. Vulcan

Vulcan: A kind of homecoming. Warm and comforting but tinged with the inevitable tension and sadness.

Sarek met them at the main transport bay, and they were soon travelling smoothly and swiftly through the red-gold desert towards Shikahr in the roomy and comfortable air-car.

Apart from a few pleasantries, nothing much was said during the journey. It was not an unpleasant silence. Knowing Sarek so well by now, Kirk felt completely at ease with him and found his presence strangely comforting and reassuring.

Spock, who had been reasonably well aboard the medi-ship where nothing more strenuous was demanded of him than a quiet game of chess, had now obviously been unsettled by the sudden spurt of activity required to convey him to his parent’s home.

Although the treatment had not affected him so badly this time, it was now quite obvious that it had been slowly eroding his health. Now, he sat between Kirk and McCoy, strained and tense, his eyes half closed, his face pale. They knew he was worried about the nausea, and the possibility of being sick in his Fathers car. Fortunately, after a hypo of anti-emetic by McCoy, that did not happen.  
It was a considerable relief to everyone when the journey ended, to be met with Amanda’s welcome. She took one look at her son and interpreted his most immediate need.

“Spock, your room is ready. Perhaps you’d like to rest?”

“Yes. The journey has tired me.”

It was an understatement, for Spock was swaying on his feet and would have fallen had not Kirk and McCoy been supporting him.

Quite calmly, perhaps more than she felt, Amanda moved into relieve the doctor of his support.

“Please, Doctor, I’ll attend to Spock. Sarek, please make Dr McCoy comfortable.”

McCoy, far from taking offence, fully realised Amanda’s need to help her son. He gave way gracefully and Amanda took Spock’s arm. She and Kirk then helped him upstairs to his room where he sank gratefully onto the bed, allowing Kirk to gently pull off his boots. But when his mother attempted to remove his shirt, he opened his eyes uneasily.

“Thank you, Mother. I can manage now.”

“Oh, Spock, for goodness sake! I am your Mother!”

“And I can manage, really. Jim will assist me.”

A hurt, bewildered look came in Amanda’s eyes, yet she merely nodded, in control of her emotions as always.

“Of course.” She glanced up at Kirk. “I’ll see you both later. Perhaps downstairs, Jim?”

“Oh, sure.” Embarrassed, he escorted her to the door and placed an understanding hand on her arm.

“Amanda…”

She looked up, almost sharply, and Kirk shook his head.

“No, nothing.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be down as soon as Spock is settled. We can talk then.”

“Spock, please don’t try to dismiss your Mother like that,” he chided gently. “She loves you so much. She needs to do something for you.”

“I had no intention of dismissing her, Jim. I just did not want her to undress me. I am no longer a child.”

“Yeah, sure I understand.”

Quietly now, Kirk helped Spock get into his usual night-attire, just boxer shorts and a t-shirt, he knew his bond-mate preferred. The effort had exhausted Spock. He sank back against the pillows, and was gratefully covered with a light blanket.

“Jim, I did not want to hurt my mother.”

“Hush. Don’t worry, my love. I’ll put it right with her, I promise. Is there anything you need?”

“No, just rest.”

“Then rest.” Kirk walked across to the window and pulled down the blinds, creating a restful atmosphere in the semi-darkness. Even before he returned to the bedside, Spock was asleep, so he tip-toed out of the room.

Downstairs, Amanda was in the kitchen, preparing a light evening meal when Kirk entered. He watched her wipe a lonely tear from her cheek, and he caught her up in his arms.

“Please don’t let it get to you, Amanda! Please! Spock needs us all. Our different strengths and loves.  
He just finds it difficult to put things into words, that’s all.”

Amanda gave a weak smile. “I guess I’m being a silly human. As Sarek used to say…well, never mind. That’s all a long time ago now.”

“Spock didn’t mean to hurt you just now. It’s just that he’s….well, he’s shy, you know?”

“Yes, I know, and I understand too.” She laughed quietly, pushing him away gently. “I always did make mountains out of molehills. Thank you, Jim.”

“For what? I did nothing.”

She squeezed his arm. “For making me feel better. You always do. You’re so good to me. Now…” She picked up one of the dishes she was preparing and gave it to him “Help me serve the meal.”

Spock looked more rested the next day, but far from being allowed to take it easy, he was required at the Medicentre for preliminary tests and examinations. He seemed resigned to it, however, and went off with Sarek and McCoy in the air-car.  
Kirk knew he would not be wanted there. Instead, he hung about the house, getting under Amanda’s feet. Not that she complained, she seemed to be pleased there was someone around to talk too. After a light mid-day meal, she invited him to attend the science academy with her, and he agreed readily. During his previous stay on Vulcan, he had made several good acquaintances there, and he spent a pleasant enough afternoon renewing them.

Almost as soon as they arrived home, Sarek’s air car pulled up.

Spock refused help, although he looked like he could use some. With an effort, he accepted his mother’s gentle invitation into the family room where Amanda served iced drinks.

“The tests and exams were excellent!” McCoy ventured in a kind of self-satisfied tone. “Better than anyone expected.”

“The Medicentre physicians were most optimistic.” Sarek agreed. “I was given a most detailed report. The treatment should…”

“Father, not now.” There was a rough angry edge to Spock’s voice. “I do not wish to discuss the treatment.”

“Spock, your Mother and Jim know nothing of what has transpired today. They must have a report.”  
“But not now!” Spock snapped. His hands were trembling and there was a thin film of sweat on his forehead. Kirk put an arm around his bond-mate’s shoulder.

“Spock, okay. It’s alright.” He assured soothingly. “Bones and Sarek will let us know later. Do you want to rest?”

“Yes. That would be wise.” With an effort, he stood up and glanced across to his mother, who had started forward to help hers on.

“I can manage, Mother.”

An awkward silence followed Spock’s departure and they could all hear his slow footsteps making their way upstairs. Sarek moved unobtrusively closer to Amanda, giving her the special comfort of their personal love.

“Please forgive Spock, sir. He is unwell…”

“And I was insensitive,” Sarek agreed with an acknowledging nod. “It was an exhausting day for Spock. I should have been more attuned to my son’s mood.”

“Yeah,” McCoy agreed. “I guess we should have given the subject a rest. Poor, Spock, he must be fed up to back teeth with all the proddin’ and pokin’ I’m sorry, Amanda. Guess neither of us thought, that’s all.”

“Amanda, give him a few minutes, then go see him.” Kirk suggested. “Make sure he’s comfortable.”

“He may….not need me.” There was fear of more rejection in her voice.

“He will, I know it.” Jim reassured her gently, and she gave a wan smile.

“In a few minutes then,” she agreed. “Once I have heard the news from Doctor McCoy.”

The news was optimistic. All the day trials conducted beforehand bore out the fact that a total remission could be achieved: and the tests performed upon Spock’s blood and tissues confirmed that the drugs would be receptive within the body. Yet there was a cautionary note – the same as before: toxicity and how much of it he could tolerate without irreversible damage.

Only time would tell.

And time was short. That fact was plainly obvious.

The intensive treatment, McCoy told them, would begin the following day, proceeded by one day’s grace. This pattern would continue for three full standard weeks, the shortest time estimated for regression. It would be grim and harrowing for Spock, Kirk realised. Little wonder he had been so uptight with McCoy and Sarek.

Amanda excused herself. A few minutes later she returned with obvious relief on her face.

“He sleeps,” she informed them and gave McCoy and Sarek a severe look. “And please try to curb your medical discussions in future, at least in front of Spock!”

Suitably chastened, Sarek, ever the diplomat, changed the subject to one of a different nature. Kirk only listened with only half an ear, and after another hour, excused himself. Bones was getting along famously with Sarek, despite his usual protestations that he ‘didn’t go a bomb on the guy.’

Upstairs, he quietly entered Spock’s room. His bond-mate was stirring restlessly in his sleep, moaning softly as though in pain. Kneeling beside the bed, Kirk gently placed his thumb and forefinger against Spock’s temple. A sharp thrill of pain passed through his body as the bond connected and he controlled it savagely.

//Be at peace, my beloved. Be at peace.//

Slowly, the restlessness diminished and with it the pain Kirk was sharing with his lover. Spock’s face became peaceful, his breathing slow and even. Clasping the Vulcan’s hand into his own, Kirk settled down to keep vigil until such time that Spock would need him.


	21. The Medicentre

The days Spock spent at the Medicentre were long and hard ones for Kirk. He was not particularly welcome at the treatment centre, perhaps understandably so, but it was not easy to kick his heels just waiting and wondering what the hell Spock was going through.

The first few alternate rest-days were good. Although Spock was weak, he appeared to be tolerating the treatment fairly well and they spent many precious hours together. Reading, talking of the better days to come, enjoying their love and togetherness. In a sense, those days were a widening of their relationship. Almost as though they were drawing even closer to each other.

It was the middle of the second week when the reaction began. Expected, but distressing all the same, especially to Spock himself. He had been feeling the effects more and more as the days progressed during the second week. By the end of it, he was in a dreadful state.

He was brought home as usual in the air-car by Sarek and McCoy. The short journey had upset him, and he vomited. This alone distressed him; to have lost control of his body in front of his father, despite the fact that Sarek was only too aware of what his son was suffering, and was more than concerned.

He had to be helped in the house, and was too ill to object. Amanda undressed him, washed his clammy skin and settled him into bed.

Unusually, McCoy had little to say. He looked tired and drawn, a mute statement of how hard he had been working these last few days.

As night drew in and the auto lights came on, Kirk made a move to go up to Spock. He’d reached the door when McCoy called him back.

“Jim, I don’t think Spock will be able to remain at home much longer. He’d be better at the Medicentre, than trekking back and forth.”

“This is Spock’s home Bones! He prefers to be here, amongst his friends and family, especially when he’s so ill.”

“Oh, Jim! Be sensible will you.”

“Well…maybe you should ask him?”

“I did. And he does prefer to be at home, which isn’t very logical!”

For some reason, McCoy was irritating him and Kirk snapped back. “Well, it’s logical to me! And to Spock! Goddamit, this is his home!”

“Sure. And have you ever thought of how exactly Sarek and Amanda will cope? Spock is sick now. He could get a damn sight worse before all this is over? Neither of them are so young anymore – and don’t forget that Sarek has already had a heart condition. What’s more, they’re not used to coping with illness….not like this.”

“So ask them? Ask them how they feel!” Kirk retorted angrily. “I’m off to see Spock!”

By the time he had reached the door of Spock’s bedroom, he guilty of snapping at McCoy, and guilty that he had not thought of Sarek and Amanda a bit more. But he could apologise to the Doctor later. He quietly opened the door and went inside. Spock waited.

Spock’s parents were sitting beside their son’s bed, their fingers touching, a sign of their bond and their devotion to each other. Spock appeared to be sleeping.  
“Sarek, Amanda, go and get some rest. I’ll take over here for a few hours.”

“I’d rather stay…” Amanda began, but Sarek interrupted gently.

“Jim is right, Amanda. Come. You need rest.”

Amanda seemed to sag wearily. Her hand moved to rest gently beside the pale fingers of her son’s, lying on the coverlet.

“I am tired,” she admitted, but still reluctantly held back. “Jim, he’s been very sick.”

“I’ll cope, really.”

“If you need clean bed linen…”

“I’ll find it. Please don’t worry so much. Sarek, persuade her to rest.”

“I will try.” He put an arm around Amanda’s shoulders. Only here, in his own home would Sarek demonstrate such affection and in front of another, and Kirk’s heart swelled with love for them both.

“Come,” Sarek said gently. “Take Jim’s advice.”

A few minutes later, Kirk was at last alone with Spock and he settled in the chair Amanda had left only moments ago. He sat quietly for an hour, and then Spock began to stir from his sleep.

“T’hy’la…?”

“I am here, my dear one.”

“You’ll stay?”

“For as long as you want me to. Is there anything you need?”

“I am thirsty.”

There was a carafe of iced water on the bedside locker. Kirk poured a glass and helped Spock raise enough to drink from it. Less than two minutes later, he had vomited it back again, retching painfully on a now empty stomach. When at last the spasm was over, he lay back exhausted against the pillows, pale and sweating.

“I am sorry, Jim.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I cannot control…the mess…lost control.”

“To hell with your control! I’ll clean up.”

He doubted if he could have tackled the job for anyone else. But this was Spock: his Beloved, his bond-mate. To do anything for him was different somehow. All his love was in the labour of it: all his longing and precious hope that the suffering would be worth-while and that Spock would live.

When he was through with the floor, he sponged Speck’s body down, changed the sheets and his clean nightwear.

“There,” he declared gently. “I’m a terrible nurse, I’m afraid, but at least you look more comfortable.”

“You are an excellent nurse, Jim.” Came the assurance. “I may even recommend you to McCoy.”

At least he had not lost his sense of humour. “Anything else you need?”

“A receptacle of some sort…just in case. I would not want to undo all your good work. My stomach would appear to have a mind of its own!”

Kirk found one in the bathroom and placed it handy. Spock seemed to relax and looked drowsy but did not wish to surrender to sleep just yet.

“On the bookshelf over there, Jim. You may find something suitable to read to me.”

Kirk scanned the titles. Some were in Vulcan, which he was definitely not up to reading. Some were obviously much loved human children’s books. Despite everything, he had to smile and thought they must have been Amanda’s childhood presents to her son.

“The House at Pooh Corner?” he queried.

“By A.A. Milne. Winne-the-Pooh – a bear with very little brain. A book I apparently would request Amanda read to me on a regular basis, when I was four. But maybe, not now.”

“Okay…what about…er…Wind in the Willows? Or Toad of Toad Hall?”

“You know Jim, when I was ten, my mother would liken Toad to my father?”

“Sarek is nothing like Toad!”

“No. But apparently his driving was. Remember Toad and his car? My father liked to drive his air car at illegal speeds.”

They both laughed at this thought. Kirk could not imagine the patient and careful Sarek as being a speed-freak. ‘Just shows how the ages calm you down.’

However, they abandoned those books and selected on a slim book of poetry written by a human called Wordsworth. The book seemed to naturally fall open at a favourite poem and Kirk read it out aloud.

“William,” Spock informed him. “William Wordsworth. ‘Who wandered lonely as a cloud, o’re vales and hills.’ But I am not sure what a daffodil is.”

“A bright yellow trumpet like flower…heralds the coming of spring. Mom had them in the garden.”

“I see…a cloud of yellow daffodils.” Spock looked up at Kirk. “Jim, I love you.”

Very gently, Kirk bent to kiss Spock on his poorly dry lips.

“I love you too, my darling. Sleep well now. Dream of the daffodils.”

“A host of….golden….daffodils.”

Spock slept at last.

 

What seemed like hours passed by. Spock woke twice, once with another spasm of vomiting, once to be helped to the head. In between, Kirk dosed. He was awakened by McCoy coming quietly into the room, carrying his medikit.  
“What time is it, Bones?” he asked quietly.

“Just a few minutes after midnight.”

“Is that all?” He yawned and stretched. “Who do the hours of darkness seem so long?” He looked up guiltily at Bones. “I’m sorry about earlier, Bones.”

“Forget it, Jim. Guess we’re all a bit uptight right now. How’s my patient?”

“Bearing up. Throwing up. Can’t you give him something to stop the vomiting? It distresses him so much.”

“That’s partly why I came. He had an anti-emetic at the Medicentre yesterday, and there’s only a certain amount he can be given in one day. I’ll give him a shot now to get him through the night.”

Spock stirred restlessly as the hypo touched his arm, but he did not wake up. Kirk watched McCoy put the spent hypo away.

“I’ve just had a talk with Sarek, Jim. And I must admit that I underestimated him – and Amanda. They both want Spock at home, and despite what I said earlier, I do understand them. I’ll see what I can do tomorrow for arranging the treatment to be conducted here. At least it will save the journey back and forth.”

“That’s a relief. He hates it so much at the Medicentre among strangers.”

“Hate is a strong emotion, especially for Spock.”

“Yeah. Well maybe he has cause for strong emotion right now.”

He eased his uncomfortable position. There was an inevitable question in his mind, which he hardly dared to voice. Yet he asked anyway. “You’ve said nothing about how the treatment is doing, Bones?”

“That’s because I don’t cross my bridges until I get to them.” McCoy answered, not committing himself.

“I’m not asking you to cross them all. Just one.”

McCoy nodded. “Okay, just one and just for you. He’s three quarters of the way through the course, and it seems like it’s working. There’s evidence now – strong evidence – but many of the disorganised cells are rapidly being replaced by healthy ones. If the treatment is completely successful, he’ll maybe need to have a very short maintenance does to flush out any remaining small pockets still lurking there. But that’s a small price to pay, and it wouldn’t affect him being your First Office and Chief Science Officer. And I reckon that’s several bridges crossed, not just one.”

Kirk felt like hugging Bones in the light-headed moments of hope he felt. Instead, he controlled himself severely. Bones had said one cautionary word: IF. It was not all over yet.

“Damned Klingons!” he cursed, more mildly than he felt for fear of waking Spock. “If I ever get my hands on one of them again…”

“Spock won’t be seeking revenge, and neither will you.” McCoy assured them quietly, allaying his own private fear that Kirk might show brutality to them. Often, over the months he had worried that, should he encounter the Klingons again, Kirk might lose control completely.

“Want me to take over for a while, Jim?” he offered. 

Jim shook his head. “No. You did more than enough earlier. I’ll stay with him.”  
After Bones had gone, Kirk managed to doze for short periods. Although his subconscious was attuned to his bond-mate, the slightest change of rhythm in his breathing, the smallest sign of restlessness and he would be wide awake. But Spock did not wake for the rest of the night, and was still peacefully asleep when Amanda arrived to take over the vigil during the early morning light.

For Spock, the days seemed to fall into a numbing, all too familiar pattern. Although spared the trauma of the journey to and from the Medicentre. He still had to endure the endless treatment and the distressing side effects. Even on the so-called ‘Rest days’, he felt too ill to sit out of bed, often even to talk. All he wanted was to feel Jim’s presence. Only that and the ever-presence of Oneness which helped to soothe his aching body and calm his thoughts. But Jim had to rest sometime, and it was always hard to let him go, knowing that the unfamiliar knot of tension and the awful sense of frustration would return as soon as Kirk left the room.

And now he was imprisoned in his bed. Dehydration had continued to take its toll and McCoy had insisted on the setting up of an infusion unit, which now dripped hydration fluid slowly via the cannula into his left arm. Undoubtedly, he did feel slightly better because of it, but Spock was unlikely to tell the doctor that. Yet there were some compensations, he pondered on one of his better times. For he had discovered a whole new aspect to his parents, especially Sarek.

He had never thought of his father as the loving, caring and very gentle man he now encountered every day. Even after their reconciliation after the journey to Babel, he had been a somewhat formidable character. Only on rare occasions after the eighteen-year separation, had they truly been able to communicate with each other as father and son.

Perhaps because he had never c hosen to accept the idea…or perhaps he had never really wanted to accept the fact that Sarek was anything other than a very correct Vulcan. He had never noticed before how tender and loving he was towards Amanda. How the small tokens of intimacy and joy of Oneness seemed to shine through.

Yet, watching his parents together in a way he had never had the opportunity before, he came to realise that the tokens of affection were completely natural, as they were between himself and Jim. All those years, Amanda and Sarek loved each other and he had never known! The revelation shocked him, but it also made him feel much closer to his father than he had ever felt before. Still, one thing continued to puzzle him.

“Mother?” he asked when he and Amanda were alone one evening. “Why did father lie to me?”

“Spock, I’ve never know Sarek to lie! Not in all the years I’ve known him!”

“Once, I asked him why he married you. He replied that it was logical at the time. I always thought it was true.”

“So it was…” There was a sparkly in Amanda’s eyes. “And before you jump to another wrong conclusion, no, it had nothing to do with…er…Sarek’s pon farr.”

“Well, lying here, I have had time to observe you both more closely and I have come to a conclusion which may verify the fact that father lied to me.”

“Well go on!” Amanda laughed kindly. “Please do not leave me in suspense! WHAT conclusion?”

“He loves you. He always has.”

Much to his consternation, Amanda gave him a hug.

“Well, well! After all these years, our son has discovered what he always wanted to know about his parents! Does the revaluation disturb you, Spock?”

“It would have done so a few years ago,” he confessed. “To me, father was the perfect Surakian Vulcan. So how could such a perfect Vulcan feel an emotion such as love?”

“And now?” prompted Amanda.

“No. It bothers me no longer. Not since…since Jim entered my life. IDIC means so much more to me now. In fact, I doubt I understood it fully until I met Jim.”

//What am I saying// he thought to himself. //How can I speak like this to my mother? Some of my innermost thoughts!//

Now, Amanda was smiling. She took his free hand into hers, and he did not pull away. Did not even want to.

“I rejoice with you, my dear that you have found someone like Jim. That may sound trite, but it’s true just the same. You are not lost any more, as you were before.”

Spock felt the strength of her emotion through this small touch and suddenly felt uncomfortable. 

“Mother…” he warned, and she took the hint and released his hand.

“So what makes you think the Sarek lied to you?” she asked, returning to the original point.

“Sarek said that marrying you was the logical thing to do.”

“So?” Her eyes were sparkling with amusement again.

“Mother,” he stated patiently. “Love is not logical!”

“But Spock, don’t you see? We loved each other, but it was not love that was logical. It was the decision to marry that was logical. The consolidation of our love. The union. What else would you have us do? To have parted would not have been logical.” She smiled again. “I’m afraid your father was teasing you, Spock. He does enjoy what is commonly known as a ‘joke.’”

Spock’s eyebrows rose to his hairline “Father?”

Amanda laughed. “You know so little of Sarek, don’t you? But no matter. You’ve had more than enough revelations for one day. Now, please rest.”

“I am resting.”

“Then rest some more,” Amanda insisted before she stood up, walked to the door and switched off the light decisively. “James will be here momentarily.”

 

The last course of drugs was given. There could be no more. Spock could not tolerate another milligram and the decision to stop was the right one. The exhaustive tests Spock had been subject to after the withdrawal would soon be revealed. Otherwise, McCoy knew the damage to the liver, kidneys and gastric mucosa would be irreversible.

Weary, McCoy took the well-worn route to Spock’s room. He had obviously vomited again, trying and failing to get to the bathroom in time. The room stank of it. Unfortunately, it was one of the rare times no-one had been with him, and McCoy felt a pang of conscience for not coming sooner. Spock did not turn his head towards him.

“Go away!” he ordered.

“Aw common, Spock...”

“Go away!”

“Be sensible for god’s sake. How can I just go away and leave you like this?”

He moved towards the other, then stopped in his tracks, suddenly realising why his friend did not want him to stay. Spock was crying!

This was something new in McCoy’s experience and it also hurt him, almost as though he could feel Spock’s inward pain. It made him want to gather the Vulcan up into his arms as the sudden rush of overwhelming fatherly affection overwhelmed him. He checked himself momentarily. The normal Spock would not appreciate the gesture. But Spock was not currently normal. He was weak, ill and now so obviously depressed.

Kicking himself for not realising the latter fact before, he finally followed his inclinations and hugged Spock close to him. To his surprise, the Vulcan did not even try to pull away. Instead, he put his head onto McCoy’s shoulder and sobbed.

He rode out the storm, cradling Spock in his arms until the distress subsided into an equally distressing bout of painful retching. It did not last long, as Spock had no more to give. Tenderly, McCoy had the exhausted man to the bed.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and changed,” he suggested kindly.

“Bones…I’ve soiled the bed..”

“Never mind. Believe me, I’ve encountered much worse than that.”

His sickbay staff would have been proud of him, McCoy thought, especially the nurses who never really believed he could actually nurse someone and tended to shoo him away when their services were required. Within half an hour, the bed was changed; Spock was washed and put into clean shorts and tee-shirt, with the minimum of fuss.

“There now,” McCoy said as he pulled a comb through Spock’s tousled hair. “Feel better?”

“Much improved,” Spock agreed.

“You’re due for your next hypo, which will suppress the nausea for a few hours. And you’ll need a new bag for the drip, as you’re still a bit dehydrated.”

He bent down to retrieve the hypo and the bag of saline from his kit. When he straightened up, Spock caught his arm.

“Doctor, I must apologise. My earlier behaviour was regrettable. I find it most difficult at the moment to control both my body and my emotions. However…”

“Woah, there, Spock! Hold on! Firstly, you don’t need to apologise to me. Secondly, your behaviour was not regrettable in any way. In fact, given everything you have been through, it was perfectly understandable. And thirdly…Spock, you’re my friend for god’s sake! I don’t care how many times you lose control of your emotions; I’m just relieved you feel able to do so. Cry, laugh, curse – even shit the bed again, I do not care! It doesn’t matter. You are my friend and a good one. Any time you need comfort, help or reassurance is the best time ever to ask for it. I’ll never judge you, you know that.”

Empathy flowed between the two men.

“Thank you.” Spock said simply.

“So let’s get this hypo done, shall we? And I’ll change your drip.”

“You’ll not tell Jim what happened, will you?”

“No, I’ll not tell Jim – or Amanda – or Sarek.”

He changed the bag of fluid, and then gave the hypo. As McCoy stooped to put away the spent cartridge and the empty drip-bag, Jim walked in. His face lit up into a smile.

McCoy and Spock exchanged glances. McCoy winked, and Spock gave him a weak smile.

“You look better, Spock!” Jim said.

“I am, thanks to Bones.”

“And this is where I depart,” McCoy declared, picking up his medi-kit.

“Bones, must you?” Jim asked, but he shook his head with cheery finality.

“Yes, I must. I somehow don’t feel like playing gooseberry today.”

“What is this ‘gooseberry’?” Spock queried, and both humans laughed.

“Jim, explain to him what a gooseberry is will you? And stop pretending that you’re sorry to see me go. Just enjoy being together for a while.”

Smiling to himself, he departed; glad to discover that his own depression had also lifted.

 

Next day, he stood before Amanda, Sarek and Jim in the family room. The results of the final tests were in his hand, but he did not need to look at them, because he already knew the results: knew them from beginning to end. Amanda and Sarek seemed perfectly composed but Jim was tense. His hands, McCoy noted, were shaking and tightly glanced.

“The tests have proved..” he paused; clearing his throat, then began again. “The tests have proved conclusively that all traces of the disease have been destroyed!”

There was a hushed silence, almost as though the three people in front of him did not believe a word he was saying. Jim spoke first.

“Bones, I could hug you!”

“Me too!” Amanda confessed. “I would to, if Sarek was not here.”

“Do not let me prevent you.” Sarek offered, although his eyebrows rose when his wife did hug McCoy. Stretching up she kissed his cheek. “Now, you have given me the best two presents I could ever hope to have. Did you know that, Doctor?”

“Two?”

“First, my beloved husband, now my beloved son…”

McCoy shifted his feet, embarrassed now, especially when Sarek made the unusual – for him – gesture of shaking his hand. Jim bailed him out.

“Have you told Spock yet?”

“I thought I would leave that up to one of you.”

“Jim, it has to be you.” Amanda insisted.

“And you must delay no longer,” Sarek agreed. “Please, Jim, convey the good news to our son.”

Jim required no second bidding. When he had gone, Amanda began to bustle. “I shall prepare a special meal…” She caught Sarek’s glance. “You cannot deny me a small celebration, Sarek!”

“I deny you nothing, Amanda.” Sarek said resignedly, and his wife departed to the kitchen.

McCoy caught a glint of humorous affection in the Vulcan’s eyes. He turned to McCoy.

“My wife and I appreciate the work you have done for our son, Doctor McCoy.”

“Thank you, sir. But there were many others involved.”

“But you, I suspect, have worked longer and harder than most. I would be interested in viewing the results of the tests. Perhaps we could both discuss the papers in my study…”

“Spock, you will live! We can resume our journey to the stars together! And we can discover so many sun-lit beaches you just wouldn’t believe! Oh my love, you are going to live!”

They embraced each other, and Jim was never sure if the dampness on his face was Spock’s tears or his own.

There was no miraculous recovery though. “Medical miracles” McCoy had cautioned, “never comes in twos. Spock’s had his. Now we must expect his moments to come just one at a time.”

Slowly, slowly, Spock took those steps: to get out of bed unaided, to spend a few precious hours in the family room, to concentrate – and win- a game of chess. Even to play his mother’s piano.

“I didn’t even know you could play!” Kirk said, watching the long, sensitive fingers fly over the keys.

“You never ask me,” Spock said reasonably.

“Well, it’s not a thing you ask your Vulcan First Officer. But now I know…” he kissed him lightly. “Now I know, your name will be prominent in the cast for the ‘Enterprise’ concert this year.”

Spock looked up at him.

“I always accompany Lieutenant Uhura on my Vulcan harp, Jim.”

“Well, now you’ll have two appearances at the ships concerts.”

Spock ignored that suggestion.

“Jim, can you remember when I was ill on the ‘Enterprise?”

Kindly, Kirk shuddered “I don’t need reminding of that, my love.”

“You came to my bed, and you were already upset. You quoted to me some beautiful words which helped me so much.”

“Yes,” Kirk remembered “Abide with me.”

“Well, I looked up this on my computer. It was written hundreds of years ago by Francis Lyte. For some unknown reason, which I have still not discovered, it was sung at the beginning of every English Cup Final match and was then adopted for final matches through the known universe over.”

“Yes, I knew all this, Spock.”

“I know very little about soccer, Jim – although I can quote the off-side rule. I’m sure you do not want me to tell you!”

“Er…no.” Kirk confessed, smiling at his bond-mates verbosity.

“No? Well however I did discover the words and the music, although the words have been changed slightly to suit all persuasions. I am not going to sing the words. I am sure you’ll be pleased by that. But I can play the music which I find quite emotional. I will play it for you, because it will heal the sadness you felt on that other occasion.”

Kirk nodded, and gave Spock a swift kiss.

“Play on, Maestro!” he ordered lightly.

Spock played the first few bars of music. Then, something happened that was so wonderful, Kirk was lost for words. First Amanda came into the room. She gave her son an affectionate hug, making Spock hesitate. Fingers poised above the keys.

“Oh, I do know that music!” She declared. “My Father always watched the Cup Final. He was obsessed about soccer and always watched the cup final. Please continue playing, Spock: It reminds me of my lovely Father!”

Spock resumed playing and again, Kirk marvelled at the sight of the fingers flying over the keys without hesitation and with such confidence.

No one had noticed that Sarek had stepped into the room, as the sounds of music filled the house.

And then it happened.

Amanda began to sing in a fine, lilting soprano voice. Was there no end to the talents of this important family?

“Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.  
The darkness deepens. Please with me abide.  
When others fail and all the comforts flee,  
Please stay with me, my love  
Abide with me…”

Kirk listened, enthralled and almost breathless with emotion. By now, Sarek had come to stand by his wife, his dark eyes shining with love. The words, Kirk realized, could well be for Sarek too, as he placed a hand lightly on Amanda’s shoulder and with the other, two fingers paired; they touched each other’s hand.

Spock played on…  
Amanda sang on…

“I need your presence every passing hour  
What but your love can foul the evil hour  
Who, like yourself, be my guide, and stay with me,  
Through cloud and sunshine,  
Please abide with me.

I fear no foe with you at hand to kiss  
Ills have no weight and tears no bitterness  
Where is death’s sting, where grave your victory  
I’ll triumph still, if you abide with me.

Hold your dear face before my closing eyes,  
Shine through the gloom and point me to the stars  
Heaven’s glory breaks, and the dark shadows flee,  
In life and death my love. Abide with me.”

As the anthem ended, there was absolute silence in the family room. No-one wanted to break the special atmosphere.

By now, Sarek was openly caressing Amanda’s paired fingers, bending to lovingly placing a kiss on her lips. As discretely as he could without showing surprise, Kirk noticed that Sarek, Perfect Saurakian Vulcan, had a definite hard-on pushing against the material of his pants and not really bothering to conceal his arousal.

Kirk turned his head away, not wanting to embarrass Sarek and Amanda. And taking it as a positive sign, he moved close to Spock, who still sat on the ancient piano stool. Brushing away tears of emotion, he wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulders, hugging him close.

As he glanced around the room, Kirk realized something wonderful, so special. After so many years of separation, hurt and recrimination, the family had become truly reunited.

And he, James T Kirk had become one of them.

He wished McCoy could have witnessed this. But he had already begged a lift on a Federation shuttle back to the ‘Enterprise’ to tackle reports the reports which needed to be written and the inevitable paperwork that the recent medical breakthrough would require.

“Tomorrow,” Sarek pronounced at last, recovered to the more usually upright Vulcan. “We must complete our Family cycle – our oneness. James, you must accompany us.”

“Thank you, sir.” He replied formally. “It will be an honour.”

“And ours,” Amanda agreed softly. “And ours.”

 

“What will happen today, Spock?” Kirk asked. Unusually, they were alone as Sarek and Amanda had some business in the city. Now, the bondmates lounged comfortably on quilts and cushions they had spread on the floor of Spock’s room, dressed only in black briefs.

“It will be something similar to when we took Bones to our ancient house. Nothing too strenuous. “ he was quick to assure Jim. Spock after all was still recovering from a serious illness. “It will re-join the family – restore the circle and welcome you into it.”

“Hmm…” Jim burrowed into Spock’s briefs, loving the fact that the penis responded. His eager fingers explored the ridges, the cleft, and the moistened tip.

“Hello, my beauty,” he purred at the member. “I’ve not seen you for quite some time. You are just as wonderful! Oh, how I’ve missed you!”

He burrowed further down, his mouth nipping and licking, which he knew Spock liked. By now, his bond-mate had his busy, eager hands down Jim’s briefs, rubbing up and down.

“Did you notice your Dad’s hard on yesterday?” he asked teasingly.

Spock blushed a delicate shade of green. “I could hardly miss it, Jim.”

“Isn’t it wonderful, Spock?”

“Wonderful? I never felt so embarrassed, Jim! I could scarcely believe that my father…made his…desires so…obvious.”

Laughing, Jim pulled down Spock’s briefs and the object of his desire popped up for him, relieved of its prison.

“Well, I think it’s wonderful that your Dad loves his wife so much that just a simple caress gives him such a…feeling.”

“I never thought of my parents enjoying…or needing…”

Jim smiled at Spock’s reticence, even after all this time. “Sex?” he suggested, nibbling at the tip of Spock’s erection.

“Sex.” Spock agreed shortly, wriggling under Jim’s ministrations.

“You enjoy sex, Spock. Why not your parents?”

“Because they are my parents. I cannot even imagine…Jim, not so fast! I’ll ejaculate too soon…”

“Woops, too late! Too late!” He felt warm fluid spurting in impossible amounts. Perhaps because it had been such a long time since they had been able to make love. After Spock arched his climax, he began milking Jim. Not surprisingly, it did not take him long before he reached a climax of his own.

“Ooh, yum yum..” he breathlessly remarked. “I could do with more of that.”

“Now?”

“No, not now. If I overtax you, McCoy will kill me!”

“Then we must circumnavigate those instructions, Jim.”

“Hmm, maybe.” He looked down at his groin.

“See? He’s waking up again!” he remarked as his penis began to stir.

Spock looked down at his own groin.

“I too awake…” he announced solemnly, bending down to gaze in wonder as he watched his own organ engorge with blood, a beautiful jade spear stirred to its full magnificence.

Jim snuggled. He knew Spock enjoyed a snuggle as their risen members rubbed together, as though they were saying ‘Hi’ He grasped his own, still sticky and slick from each other’s previous ejaculate. Bending forward, he kissed Spock on the lips.

“Hmm, must not overtax, eh? Well, let’s love ourselves. I do love watching you doing that.”

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Spock not willing to wait was already on his way with his own jade spear. For someone who – so he said – had never masturbated before, he looked now as though he was enjoying himself and his new-found encounter with an old friend.  
Eyes closed, neat front teeth biting his upper lip, holding his breath as the climax rose through his body, until at last the fountain came in almost juddering release.

It was Jim’s turn now, his life-fluid spilling over his belly, his groin, and his testicles.

They both collapsed, breathless, onto their bed of pillows.

“Wow!” Jim said.

“Wow!” Spock agreed. “That was so good, Jim. So good.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t stay here like this until your parents arrive home. Sarek’s hard-on is one thing, but seeing us like this would be a step too far!”

“Yes. Just let me rest for a short time. Our…double…has tired me. Then we must prepare ourselves for the rest of the day.”

“If we must…”

“Yes, Jim. We must.”

By the time Sarek and Amanda returned home, Jim and Spock were showered, dressed and had returned Spock’s return to its usual neatness.

“You must tell me about tonight?” Jim pleaded, as Amanda bustled about and Sarek, in his ultra-calm way, took himself off someplace else. “I mean, is it formal or informal? Do I need to wear my dress uniform?”

“Jim, stop worrying.”

“Well I know this evening is important, and I want it to be right.”

“It is a family occasion. And please, no dress uniform. Wear what you feel most comfortable in.”

In the end, and with Spock’s approval, he chose light beige chinos and a loose white linen tunic, with his IDIC around his neck. Spock was casually – for him – dressed in light green coloured pants, the inevitable matching tunic and IDIC. He looked good, although a bit too slender after his illness, but now appeared every bit of the Vulcan he was.

Sarek, too, was dressed surprisingly casual. He wore what suspiciously looked like jeans and a casual tunic with his IDIC. Jeans! Jim did a double take, amused. But even so clad, he was still an imposing and handsome figure. No wonder Amanda adored her very important Ambassador of Vulcan.

Of course, she looked radiant, her ankle length dress shimmering in the darkening sky, her long hair unusually loose from its bonds, falling over her shoulders. What a shame Vulcan had no moon to shed its golden glow.

The transport was Sarek’s beautiful ‘Ambassadorial’ air-car. If pride was illogical, then Sarek was guilty. He was truly proud of the car. A proper ‘boy’s toy.’

“Sarek, T’hy’la, why not let Spock drive?” Amanda suggested.

“Why? It is my car.”

“Spock will drive carefully. He will not, on any account, drive at illegal speeds.”

Jim somehow smothered a laugh, at the thought of ‘Toad of Toad Hall’. So Sarek really was a speed-freak! Amanda turned to him.

“I guess Spock has told you about Toad, Jim?”

“Toad?” Sarek echoed.

“Of Toad Hall, T’hy’la.”

Spock came to his father’s defence. “Mother, I do not wish to drive. Besides, a car like this needs to be…nurtured. It is meant for speed.”

“Legally, of course.”

“Yes, legally.” Spock agreed, pointedly climbing into the rear seats. “Come, Jim.”

That settled, Sarek parked himself firmly into the driving seat and Amanda was forced to sit beside him. By now, Jim’s sides were aching with suppressed laughter as the safety belts clicked automatically into place. Beside him, Spock squeezed his hand as the powerful engine powered into life.

“It is now dusk.” Amanda remarked. “You will require your lights.”

Sighing impatiently, Sarek flicked a switch, flashing the lights. “See? They are now on. And before you no doubt remind me – yes, I will indicate at the appropriate moment, and yes, I will take great care at junctions! I will also look in my rear-view screen just in case I happen to be chased by a traffic enforcer. Can we now proceed, my Wife?”

“Advance, Ambassador.”

The Ambassador finally advanced. 

They drove – peacefully – through the well-known route through the red desert towards the ancient clan-house by the edge of the Forge. This lights picking out the desolate landscape.

There was very little traffic this far out. Sarek gave Amanda a sly glance, and then upped his speed yet again.

“Amanda, why are you gripping the edges of your seat?”

“You are now speeding, Sarek! And I want to live!”

“You will. When have I ever incurred a speeding fine?”

“Only because of the Embassy plates on the outside of this…this monster. And if you are stopped, you merely flash you ID!”

“I am the credited and licenced pilot of a variety of inter-planetary vehicles. Surely I can be trusted to drive this simple car, which is obviously not a monster! Please stop gripping your seat. It is most irritating.”

Somehow, Jim managed to stifle more laughter. This, he thought, was pure comedy. How many such arguments took place between husband and wife in the known universe!

But here? On Vulcan?

Fortunately for married bliss, the journey continued in silence. As the old Clan house loomed spookily up, Sarek, with an almost self-satisfied glance at Amanda, parked safely – and perfectly.

As they climbed out, auto-lights picked out the stony path. Jim stretched, and then caught up Spock’s hand as they prepared to follow behind Sarek and Amanda.

“Oh my love!” he whispered. “Your parents are absolutely priceless!”

“Hmm,” commented Spock uncertainly.

As they proceeded along the path, another air-car arrived and parked, carefully next to the ‘monster’.

//What now?// Jim thought, but trepidation soon fled as out of the ‘car stepped none other than Doctor Leonard H McCoy.

“Bones!”

They fell into each other’s arms. Even Spock embraced him. 

“How the hell did you get here?” Jim asked. 

McCoy shrugged. “It’s a long story. I’d barely reached the Enterprise and unpacked, before I was summoned by Admiral Simpson to return and attend a special Vulcan ceremony. Wondered what the hell! So here I am! I hope I’m not…er…underdressed? I was told informal.”

Jim looked his friend over. He was wearing blue jeans and a flowery shirt.

“Nope. You’re fine, Bones. Even Sarek is in jeans tonight.”

“Come, Doctor,” Spock invited. “We must enter, and all will be explained later.”

“You are looking well, Spock. I hope you’ve been following my instructions to the letter.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I have.”

Behind him, Kirk merely glanced at his precious Vulcan, marvelling at the ease with which he lied to the Doctor.

Inside, the vast hall was well lit, chasing away the dark shadows. To one side of the idomput was a table set out with what looked like a small feast.

To the other side stood a harp. Not just the smaller Vulcan harp, but a full sized beastie.

//What next?// Jim thought, hoping fervently it did not auger another ‘Abide with me.’ At least now that Sarek was wearing jeans, the denim was thicker, so no hard-on to gaze upon.

He hoped.

“This night is for our family.” Sarek informed them all. “The feast is to share in harvest times, good or bad, and to share in the Oneness, the togetherness.”

“We are family. My beloved Amanda, even when she does not appreciate the finer points of my driving abilities. My beloved son, Spock. Regrets of the past and the lost eighteen years are behind us now. Our adopted son, James Kirk, T’hy’la of Spock. And Doctor Leonard McCoy, who with so much skill of his honourable profession, twice saved our family.”

“We are now One, so please family, unite us by joining in a circle around idomput as our completion.”

Around the glowing, fiery idomput, they gathered and joined hands. This time, McCoy did not pull away. In his left hand he grasped Jim’s. In his right, Spock’s. Blinking away a sudden rush of tears.

The circle was completed when Sarek joined the circle beyond Spock, his hands gripping those of his wife and son. Amanda reached out her other hand and Jim took it into his.

The Family became One: United.

Respectful silence followed and each member of the group felt a warmth and belonging pass through them. After about two minutes, it was Sarek who spoke.

“The feast!” he announced. “We will break bread as the Family. Enjoy!”

At the laden table, the ‘Feast’ included both Vulcan and Terran food that everyone might enjoy.

Except…

“The chocolate cake is for Terrans only.” Amanda encouraged. “As you know, chocolate is an intoxicant for all Vulcans, and is illegal to sell such items here. My sister sends me chocolate through the diplomatic channels. Hence the cake.”

“Well, I sure would not like to handle two intoxicated Vulcans!” McCoy said. “But I could handle your delicious cake, Lady Amanda.”

“And I could handle the Pan Fruit Wine!” Spock said, eyeing the iced bottle.

It was Sarek who broke off pieces of the kadav ceremoniously and gave a piece to everyone.

“Eat, my beloved family. Kadav, the food of love.”

They ate in silence, on-one wanting to the break special atmosphere. Then Amanda clapped her hands together.

“Please help yourselves! Doctor McCoy, a slice of my chocolate cake?”

“Love to,” McCoy agreed, and Amanda cut a huge slice for him and handed it to him on a plate. Somehow, he managed to pick it up and took huge bite, chocolate crumbs on his lips. He winked at Spock.

“You don’t know what you are missing, Spock! Lady Amanda, this is lovely.”

“Thank you, Doctor. But alas, Sarek and I do know, unfortunately, what Spock is missing. Remember Sarek, when five year old Spock somehow found my chocolate?”

 

“Vividly!” said Sarek, rolling his eyes heavenward. “He could not walk in a straight line, could only speak gibberish, fell down and grazed both knees, and…AND…he vomited in my car! I have never, ever, had to clean up such a mess!”

The humans all laughed and Spock shuffled his feet, thankful there were no more embarrassing chocolate related tales of Spock’s boyhood to relate. In pleasant companionship, they ate and drank together. Kirk would have liked to ask McCoy about the Enterprise and her crew, but now was not the time.

It was Sarek’s time to clasp his hands together. “My family, you have shared our meal. You have partaken off Kadav, food of love. Now you will be entertained.”  
Bones nudged Jim’s arm who made a discrete ‘Don’t ask me!” gesture. Spock moved across to the massive harp and sat down on the stool provided. His long sensitive fingers moved deftly over the strings, producing the opening notes.

“I trust it is tuned to your satisfaction, my son?”

“Indeed it is,” Spock agreed. giving another trill over the strings. “Jim, Bones, do not stand alone. Please, stand beside me.” 

He turned to his father. “I hope this will be satisfactory for you, beloved parents. I had barely three minutes to memorise the music.”

“You are an excellent musician.” Sarek praised. “It will be perfect.”

Jim was bemused by now, what was the Ambassador’s part in this ‘Entertainment?’ He could feel Bones beside him, almost jumping with curiosity. 

“Behave yourself!” Jim whispered.

It began…

Such a surprise that rendered McCoy speechless and left Jim almost open-mouthed in awe!

For here, in front of him, were the three people most important in his life, using the words of an old, old earth song speaking of love, affection and positive joy.

Sarek, Senior Ambassador of the planet Vulcan and of the Federation began to sing in a fine and powerful tenor voice.

His wife, the Honourable Lady Amanda, a beautiful soprano.

And their son, First Officer of the Federation flagship ‘Enterprise’, playing the instrument with so much virtuosity.

Was there no end to the achievements of this wonderful, wonderful family of which they were now a part?

The words, the music, the atmosphere in this ancient clan-hall soared, melting into genuine love.

Amanda:- When I am down, and oh! My soul is so weary  
When troubles come and my heart burdened be,  
Then I am still, and wait here in the silence.

Both:- You raise me up. So I can stand on mountains,  
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas  
I am strong when I am on your shoulders  
You raise me up to more than I can be  
You raise me up so I can stand on mountains  
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas

Sarek:- I am strong when I am on your shoulders  
You raise me up to more than I can be

Both:- You raise me up so I can stand on mountains  
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas

Amanda:- I am strong when I am on your shoulders

Both:- You raise me up to more than I can be

Silence: utter silence as the music faded into the upper atmosphere of the ancient clan-hall. Sarek and Amanda embraced. Spock stood away from the harp, put his arms around Jim and kissed him deeply.

“T’hy’la, I love you.” he breathed.

McCoy, tears falling down his cheeks, said “What in heaven’s name have I had the privileged to witness?”

Spock moved across to him, his arms outstretched to embrace the human.

“You have witnessed love, Leonard McCoy. Come, take my hand and I will raise you up.”

Somehow, it took several minutes for everyone to recover. Eagerly, Bones accepted a glass of wine, gulping it down as though his very life lay on it.

Meanwhile, Amanda and Sarek were still held close and no-one had the heart to break them up. Eventually they did and Jim thanked God for the denim jeans again.

“I guess,” Bones said, breaking the slightly awkward atmosphere. “That a few bars of ‘Nessum Dorma’ could be a bit of a let-down after that!”

“Would you like me to sing Nessum Dorma, doctor?” Sarek asked.

By now, Bones was dumbstruck. All he could do was nod speechlessly, realising that his throw-away joke had misfired.

“Spock, the piano.” Sarek ordered. “You do know this.”

“I do indeed, father.”

The piano, almost hidden behind drapery was finally revealed, and Spock sat on the stool, his fingers immediately skipping across the keys. Sarek stood by the idomput.

And sang…his strong tenor voice soaring.

It sounded more glorious, than even Jim or Bones had ever heard.

“Nessum Dorma…”

“Wow!” McCoy whispered in a choked voice. “That was just…just…” Unusually, words failed him.

“And now,” Sarek announced. “We must return home, doctor. You are, as ever, welcome to be our guest.”

“Thank you, Ambassador. I would be most grateful.”

They started off down the well-lit path towards the car, Jim and McCoy bringing up the rear.

“Jim,” McCoy whispered. “Did you see Amanda and Sarek? They were practically eating each other!”

“They love each other, Bones.”

“Oh,” he said sourly, and then grinned. “And good to see Spock is so well.”

“He is, thanks to you.” He squeezed McCoy’s hand. “You are one of the family now. Welcome!”

They all piled into the ‘car.

“The lights are on now,” Sarek said pointedly to his wife, flashing them in a demonstration. “I am sure ‘Toad’ will get us all safely home, Amanda.”

Reaching over, Amanda gently kissed him. “I have no doubt of it, T’hy’la.” Amanda agreed.

And-thank god-thought Jim, the journey set off without further comment.


	22. Best Man preparations

Early the following morning, Jim was at last able to question Bones on what was happening on the ‘Enterprise.’

“Scotty’s…er…amendments and shakedown was in the final day when I left, Jim. Starfleet’s most senior engineers should have finalised the inspection and signed everything off. Rumour has it, complete with a special commendation for Scotty on his designs.”

“Excellent!” Jim exclaimed, genuinely pleased about Scotty’s award. “But… I resume there is a ‘but’. There always is.”

“Yeah,” McCoy sighed. “When you look at your comp, you will find your Personal Leave has now ended. You will, by tomorrow, be ordered back to the ‘Enterprise’ to resume your command.”

Jim sighed. He had expected it, and he was anxious to return to his ‘silver lady’. But so soon?

“And Spock?” He had hardly dared ask. He took a big, gulping sigh.

“You know the regs, Jim. And so does Spock. He had a serious, life threatening illness. So…he must present himself to Starfleet Medical Centre for his final physical and psychological assessment.”

“Bones, he’ll hate it! Can’t you do it?”

“Sorry but he’ll have to endure it. And no, I cannot do it. It has to be done with impartiality and unconnected with any medic known to him. Sorry, but I know he’ll be okay. He is well now. In the meantime, I suggest you go back upstairs and make ready for your departure from Vulcan. I’ll go tell Spock the bad news. Don’t fret Jim! One standard month at the most and he’ll be back with you, I promise.”

Jim nodded, forlornly. McCoy caught his arm.

“Just one more thing, Jim…”

“Well, I hope it’s a good thing, Bones.”

“I think so. Well, I hope so. But it is a bit – er awkward.”

“Just get on with it, Bones!”

“Okay, if you insist. There has been talk. Not by me, you understand. I’m not a gossip…”

“Bones!”

“There has been…er…wedding talk amongst the crew.”

“Oh? Who’s getting married? It’s a long time since I conducted a wedding. Captains can do that, you know.”

“Well – er – not this one.”

Light dawned and Kirk’s expression changed, very much like a light switching on.

“Aw no…you can’t mean…”

“Huh, huh! You and Spock. A civil partnership I think it might be called. But even as captain, you can’t really conduct it yourself, can you?”

“You mean the crew knows about our bonding?”

“Well, perhaps not the actual bonding. But none of them are stupid of course: they knew about you two, especially folk like Uhura, Sulu, Scotty and all of whom can gossip for the universe.”

“I’ll go pack, ready for tomorrow.” He said quickly, and turned away once more, his brain now in a whirl of thoughts. Again, McCoy called him back.

“Jim, please think about it seriously. You and Spock…”

“Bye for now, Bones. See you later…”

Determinedly, he strode away.

 

Everything packed and all but their personal items already sent to the Starship, via a passing shuttle-craft. Kirk felt somehow empty. Of course, he was eager to return to the ‘Enterprise’ but was almost bereft at having to leave Spock, even though he knew it would not be for long.

He also felt sad to leave the Vulcan home he had come to love, especially since Sarek and Amanda had been so welcoming to him. After the evening in the old clan house, he really did feel much closer to his Vulcan family.

And now, in just a few short hours, he would be leaving them.

But perhaps…perhaps…it would not be for too long. They now lay on the bed, holding each other close.

“Oh Spock, I don’t want to leave you!”

“It will not be for long, Jim. Just a few days, then we can be among the stars again. Where we both truly belong.”

They hugged, caressed, kissed with the passion of their love.

“Spock…”

“Yes, T’hy’la?” Spock murmured, nuzzling the soft skin beneath Kirk’s left ear.

“What would you think about a wedding?”

“On the ‘Enterprise?”

“Where else?”

“Of course, I would feel – happy – for the couple.”

“I am sure you would. But what if…what if the couple was us?”

All movement froze between them. “Us?”

“Spock, will you marry me?”

Silence, amazed, surprised silence. They moved apart just enough to look into each other eyes and be certain of the serious intent of those words.

“Spock,” Jim repeated softly “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, Jim! Yes, Yes! I will marry you, my wonderful T’hy’la.”

And they fell once more into each other’s arms.

Just one hour later, hand in hand, they stood in the Family room, facing Sarek and Amanda.

“Today,” Jim began. “I proposed to my T’hy’la.”

“And I accepted. My beloved parents, James and I are to be married.”

Reaction came immediately from Amanda. She burst into tears, run up to them and enfolded them both in to her loving arms.

“Oh my loves, how much I have longed for this happy day!”

Sarek pressed four fingers in the Vulcan salute onto their chests. “My sons, I rejoice with you. I know within my heart that you will live long and prosper.”

And then, it was time to go and say goodbye. Jim did not want Spock to travel with them to the shuttle facility; it would have been too emotionally charged for general Vulcan company. Instead, Sarek agreed to take him and McCoy in the Ambassadorial ‘beast.’ At the Vulcan home, he had hugged Amanda, who was already making lists and ideas for the upcoming ‘nuptials.’

Then he turned to Spock. “Hurry back to me, my love. I will be lonely without you.”

“I will join you as soon as I can T’hy’la. And then, we will be together for all time, among the stars.”

They hugged, kissed and then parted reluctantly. Jim climbed into the ‘car, where Sarek was waiting, patiently as ever. McCoy was fidgeting about, eager to be off.

At the busy shuttle facility, they went through the security retinal scan station. There was already a shuttle waiting for them on the pads. Jim faced Ambassador Sarek.

“Thank you, sir. For everything.”

“Jim, live long and prosper. We will meet again soon, on your wedding day. Doctor McCoy, please take good care of him. He is most precious to our family.”

“I will guard him with my life, Ambassador.” McCoy assured him, with a little bow. “Live long and prosper, Sir.”

Despite the busy shuttle bay and lines awaiting transport, Jim would not resist an embrace with Sarek, who, to his surprise, did not pull away but embraced him back.

Then, they parted.

One last lingering glance, then they were both on the shuttle transport bound for the ‘Enterprise.’

   
Chapter 21 = Homecoming

It was like coming home. As soon as they were transferred from the shuttle, they were greeted by a ‘Welcome Home’ line up, mostly consisting of the Bridge Crew. All of them of course, asking about Spock and his health. McCoy swiftly sloped off to his lair of Sickbay, no doubt, as he was bubbling with the news, telling his eager staff of the ‘happenings’ of last night and the morning…

Jim followed the Bridge Crew to the Bridge, where he seated himself with a grin into his command chair, fondling the well-known, loved controls and the leather arms. Only one thing was missing. Every time he turned towards the science station, the position was empty. Spock…

Despite the vast, incalculable regions of outer space, news travelled at the speed faster than warp. He had returned to the ‘Enterprise’ for less than two hours when Uhura turned to him…

“Captain, there is an incoming call from Admiral Simpson.”

Inwardly, he groaned. He knew that Starfleet did not look favourably on what they called “fraternization”, between senior officers.

So now what?

“Put him through to my office, Uhura.”

He hurried to his office. If this was about what he thought it might be, he preferred, for the moment, for it to stay private. Simpson was one of the most reasonable of the Admiralty’s senior officers, and usually, Kirk liked him.

//But we’ll see now.” He thought. “If my judgement was correct.//

Flicking the comm switch, Simpson’s well-endowed figure flickered onto the screen,

“G’day to you, Captain.”

“Sir!”

“I believe, Captain, that ‘congratulations’ are in order!”

Jim kept his face blank.

“Really, Sir?”

“Oh come on, Jim – I can call you Jim, can’t I? Don’t play the old innocent with me! Your Civil Partnership! Your – er – wedding with Commander Spock, no less!”

“How do you know that, Sir? I have told no-one but the family and Doctor McCoy.”

“Well, y’know what they say. News travels fast! And it is true, I presume?”

Nothing for it now but to admit it. “Yes, Admiral. It is true.” He confessed with a sigh. “But I would prefer to keep it private until I have told my crew.”

“Well, there you are, then. So, it is ‘congratulations.’ And what wonderful news it is!”

“Is it? For whom, myself and Commander Spock excepted?”

“Oh Jim! Don’t sound so suspicious, man! Of course it’s wonderful news.”

“For whom?” he persisted.

“Have you no idea what this could do for the Federation? This will be top news for the inter-species programme. What’s more, you will be entering into one of the most influential families in the whole of the bloody Federation.”

“Sir, these are not the reason why Spock and I are entering into this serious partnership. It is simply because we….because we love each other!”

“A Vulcan in love? Whoever heard of such a thing?”

“I have, Admiral. Not only heard, but know with certainty.”

“Hmm, well,” said the Admiral uncertainly, and Jim began to change his mind about Simpson.

“Tell me, Jim, what was all that about Doctor McCoy being called urgently back to Vulcan? Someone had a paper-cut, eh?”

“No. It was a family occasion,” he said, disliking Simpson even more now.

“What for then? Dancing around the igg-potty thing?”

“No. In fact Ambassador Sarek sang Nessum Dorma.”

“Did he now? Well, Kirk, let me know when the –er- ceremonies take place, eh?”

//Not bloody likely!// Jim thought.

“I could always be best-man, eh?”

//Not on your life!//

“Well, thanks for being honest. No doubt you’ll hear from me later. Like I said, Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Admiral. Good day, sir.”

With relief, he watched the Admiral fade away.

 

Still feeling irritated about Simpson’s obvious prejudice against Vulcans, he sought sanity with McCoy, who was in his office, perusing reports on his comp. He looked up, giving Jim a flashy grin.

“Hey, Jim! How ‘ya doing?”

“Trying to calm down after a conversation with Admiral Simpson. How the hell did he find out?”

McCoy shrugged, and then came clean. “Well, I did tell Chris and M’Benga. I was bubbling with excitement, couldn’t bottle it up any longer. Also, you records needed to be updated with your change in status. But you know how it is, Jim? News travels fast…”

“Fast, yeah, I know. Thanks a bunch, Bones!”

“Well, you can’t leave the entire crew in limbo for much longer.”

“I wanted to wait until Spock came home!”

“So, he’s back tomorrow. Have you thought this through?”

“Endlessly.”

“So get going – I mean, who’s invited to the big event? That’ll be a start.”

“The entire crew. Spock and I have agreed about that.”

“So, get the invites out! That’ll damp down all the speculation. And no, you needn’t send them individually. That’s what comps are for. Just write one, flick a switch – and then presto! Everyone will know! But you know all this. That’s why you are a Captain of a Starship and I’m just a lowly humble medic!”

“There’s another thing, Bones. Spock and I really, really want you to be our Best Man.”

McCoy grinned, jumping to his feet and grabbing Kirk in a big bear hug. Who was sure he heard his ribs creak.

“Oh, Jim! Yes! That’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me! And I promise not to lose the rings, and produce them at exactly the correct time. Hey, I presume you do have the rings?”

“Spock is sorting that, while he’s still on Vulcan. I can’t unfortunately. I mean, you can purchase lots of things on board, but wedding rings are not some of them. I’m sure Amanda will help him choose.”

“Thank God for that! Anything else? Like…er…who will actually marry the happy couple?”

“Well, it won’t be me! But of course, as a senior Ambassador, Sarek himself is an official registrar – for Vulcans. Spock is a Vulcan citizen, and I am its adopted son. I know he’ll be delighted to do this for us.”

“So, go write you invite, Jim. At least when Spock comes home tomorrow everything will be sorted, and the entire crew will be on ‘Wedding Alert.”

“Bye, Bones…”

 

Seated in his office, the bank screen of his comp in front of him, Kirk finally began to write the most important missive to his loyal ‘Enterprise’ crew, inviting them all to the Civil Partnership Ceremony of himself and Commander Spock, First Officer of the Starship Enterprise. In just two standard weeks, he thought, we will be joined and officially bound together forever.

“The official ceremony,” he wrote “will be held in the main hanger deck, officiated by the Honourable Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan. This will be followed by the Wedding Feast in Rec-Rooms Two and Three. Music, dancing and other entertainment will follow.

You are all requested to wear Full Dress Uniform, in honour of this important occasion. Those remaining on duty will be able to view the ceremony via ship wide broadcast and there will be a rotation of 2 hour shifts to allow all to participate.

The family: Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, Ambassador Sarek and his wife, the Honourable Lady Amanda, will be most pleased to meet you all.

Just one note of caution. Please be aware that this occasion will attract the attention of the universal press and media. I trust that you will show them the courtesy I know my crew is capable of. 

Thank you for your attention.

Captain James T Kirk.”

But despite what McCoy had said, he did not ‘flick the switch.’ Not yet, until tomorrow when Spock came home.

‘And then they would ‘flick’ it together. Instead, he flicked ‘save.’

At last, ‘tomorrow’ had come: and it was early when Kirk stood eagerly in the transporter room, with McCoy beside him. As the familiar sparkle of the transporter coalesced into the solidarity of Spock, somehow, he managed to control the urge to run up onto the podium and hug him. The young transporter officer behind the console was all ears and eyes, watching out for any moves his two senior officers might make. Spock, maintaining a very correct stance, stepped down from the pads.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” he asked formally.

“Permission granted, Mr Spock. Welcome abroad!”

”Thank you, sir.”

Kirk felt a bubble of laughter. How long would they play this game for the benefit of the young ensign? McCoy read the situation stepped into the breach.

“Welcome home, Spock! I’ve missed you! No-one to argue with, see? Makes me awful crabby!”

“No doubt the situation will soon be remedied, Doctor!”

Bones grinned. Spock had fallen straight into McCoy’s well sprung trap.

“Well, we soon can. You know the regs, Mr Spock, so if you care to report to Sickbay for your final physical.”

“I do not care, doctor.” 

“Trying hard yet again not to laugh, Jim put a hand on Spock’s shoulder. “Briefing Room 1, Commander. A briefing session is in order. You can have a sparring session with the good doctor at a later time.”

He turned to the wall intercom.

“Mr Sulu, take her out of here. Continue present course to Starbase Eight, Warp Three.”

“Aye, Sir, Present course, Warp Three.”

Soon, they were in the Briefing room. At last, he was able to hug Spock. It was such a wonderful moment. To be close: to feel his love surging through him.

“I’ve longed so much for this, my love.” He breathed.

“And I, T’hy’la. And I.”

But all was not quite well. There was tension in Spock’s shoulders.

“Come on, Spock. What’s the matter? Relax”

“I cannot – in this place – with the crew walking by…”

Jim released him. “Yeah, guess you’re right! Come then, my quarters…”

“You are on duty. So, presumably am I.”

“Oh no, we’re not: care to check the duty roster?”  
“That will not be necessary. I believe you.”

“There is one thing we could do here. Come over to the comp.”

Kirk quickly found the saved ‘invitation’ to the crew. “The crew, sort of, know already,” he explained. “But we must send this out as soon as possible.”

“Yes, I agree. You know, Jim, my father is truly honoured. I do not think I have ever seen him so…happy. And my Mother, of course is – as you say – ‘over the moon’. When I left to come here, she was already baking a wedding cake, would you believe?”

“Yes, I can believe. Look, if you agree with this, can we just … flick the switch together to send it to the entire crew. Together, Spock, for us.”

Together, they ‘flicked’ the switch.

And the entire crew was now invited to the happening of the year….

As they reached Kirk’s cabin, he held out his hand to Spock. Who after hesitating briefly, took it. Hand in hand, they went together into Kirk’s quarters, and he turned on the privacy lock.

“There! Safe at last! And Spock, love of my life, I really, really, want to ravish you! It has been too long. Much too long!”

“That,” Spock declared, maintaining a straight face. “Sounds infinitely…logical. I, too, would be pleased to ravish you.”

“So then, my love, we will ravish each other….”

“Together…?”

“Yes. Together.”

And they did…..


	23. The Big Day

Things seemed to be happening so fast now that Spock was at least assuming all of his duties. But for him, and Kirk, there were multiple distractions. The entire crew was buzzing with the news and good will. Overcoming the general reserve between crew and senior officers, both men encountered a multitude of congratulatory handshakes and shoulder clasps many times over, throughout the day. Even for Spock. Most of the crew knew that Spock – as a Vulcan – disliked physical contact… (if only they knew!) Kirk thought amusedly – but ye somehow endured the good-will intentions of the crew, even a swift hug from Uhura, who was genuinely thrilled. Especially when her Captain asked her something of importance to the proceedings, which were fast approaching.

“Would you be in charge of the musical side of things, Lieutenant...The music and entertainment?”

“Oh yes, Sir! I would be so honoured. There is so much in the music library I can include! Oh, and Captain, I could include Kevin Riley as the D.J. He has done it before and been excellent.”

“As long as he doesn’t try to sing Kathleen.” Kirk joked, remembering a never-to-be-forgotten incident.

“Believe me,” Uhura laughed, “He won’t….”

“Good! Entertainment sorted!” Kirk mentally ticked off another item on the ‘to do’ list. “Oh, and just one other thing…” He bent down to whisper something in her ear.

“Oh, sir. I don’t know if I could…” was the response to the whispered request.

“Trust me, it will go down a storm. ‘Specially if you can provide the appropriate backing.”

“I will certainly do my best,” Uhura assured him and he knew that given her temperament, she would move mountains to make it happen.

Then the catering blew up a diplomatic difficulty. Sarek’s clan – which of course involved Spock and now Jim – wanted to provide a suitable Vulcan banquet. A huge task since it involved the entire crew, media and god knew who else turned up. But Starfleet wanted to do exactly the same, this being a prestigious affair. After all, it was a show-case for their diversity programme.

Thankfully, it was Sarek the diplomat who solved this ‘catering wars’, which McCoy had humorously called it. Eventually, it was agreed that both factions would provide elements of the catering - suitable for all species. But Sarek was adamant to stress that only Amanda would provide the ‘wedding cake.’

“Catering war over!” joked McCoy. “I only hope the food turns out better than the replicators produce!”

“The cake will,” Spock commented.

“Oh sure Spock, the cake will be glorious! Let’s just hope it isn’t laced with chocolate, eh?”

It was Security that was the next major headache, with so many people on the Starship: people who were important to both Starfleet and Vulcan. Chief of Security, Nomura, had it all in hand.

“Certain places will be ‘No go’ areas, Captain and always guarded.” The Security Chief assured him. “As all my people will be on guard, Mr Scott’s duty engineers will also be watching out for any disturbances or problems. Hopefully, none sir, but any sign will be stamped on immediately.”

“You know about the delegation of religious nutters down at the Starbase demonstrating about single-sex unions?”

“Yes, sir. So far, a peaceful demonstration, but I have been assured by Starbase Security that they will be dispersed well in time. They’ll cause no problems, religious, or otherwise.”

“Thank you, Commander. I appreciate your attentiveness to the details.”

“Aye, Sir. And the very best to you and Mr Spock.”

 

“Sometimes,” Jim said as they snuggled down in the ‘bed’ on the floor. “I wish we had just run away to Gretna Green.”

“Gretna Green?” Queried Spock.

“A place in Scotland where lovers ran away too, to get married in secret. Scotty was telling me all about it earlier today. I’m sure he would have aided and abetted us.”

“Well,” said Spock. “A little too late. And how could we run away from all this, Jim? No-one would be too pleased with us. My parents, the crew, Starfleet…”

“Yeah, I know. Just a silly thought of mine.” He snuggled further down, peeping beneath Spock’s briefs. “Aw, look at him! He’s already raring to go!”

Spock gave a rare laugh, and then pulled on the band of Jim’s briefs, gazing down.

“Yours seems a trifle sleepy.” Came the wry comment.

“Then we’ll have to wake him up!” Kirk cupped his crotch. “Cummon baby! Don’t be shy!”

They both gazed down.

“See? He heard me…Y’see he loves you just as much as I do! Isn’t that wonderful!”

Spock kissed him on the lips, and then rolled on top of him.

“Wonderful, Jim. As you would say T’hy’la, fucking wonderful!”

 

“Bones, have you got the rings yet?”

“No, Jim, but worry not, Sarek will bring them to me the moment they beam aboard from the Starbase. I checked.”

“There’s so much to do still! So little time!”

“Jim, if you go on like this, your blood pressure will be sky-high! Trust me, everything is tickety damn boo and in order. Nothing will go wrong.”

“Famous last words!” He scrubbed at his face. “I’m not liking that demo down on the Starbase. Those religious nuts demonstrating against single-sex unions.”

McCoy spread his hands, palms upwards…. “All sorted. As your Best Man, I have checked and rechecked with Base Security. The ‘nuts’ have all been dispersed and they will not be returning. I have Starfleet’s assurances on that. Now quit worrying, will yer? All will be well, I promise.”

“I just want everything to be perfect, Bones.”

“I know, and so do I, believe me. And look at Spock? Your partner-to-be is as cool as the proverbial cucumber: Why don’t you get some lessons from him, for gawd’s sake?” He paused, biting his lip. “Maybe I should take your pressure! Lie down, I’ll do it now!”

“No, Not necessary.”

“Okay, just for now – but I won’t forget about it! Now, what will you be wearing for your nuptials, eh?”

“Jeans and tee-shirt!” Jim quipped, then seeing McCoy’s horrified face, he laughed. “No, of course not. But mind your own bloody business, doctor! You’ll know soon enough! And you?”

“Ditto. Same answer as you. Although jeans would be a sight more comfortable than dress uniforms, especially as the uniform have no pockets. Where will I stick the rings – if I do wear dress?”

“I’m sure you will find somewhere, Bones.”

“Yeah! Stick um up my… I AM a doctor! I have the means!”

“You just dare! Gotta go now. See you later, Bones.”

 

Just one day to go…

“H-E-L-P!” Jim groaned.

They had arrived at Starbase Eight the day before. By now they had endured countless interviews with the media, conducted a restricted tour of the ‘Enterprise’ by ‘Important personages’ and strange people attached to Starfleet and the Federation doing ‘stuff’ at various venues, all requiring the tightest of security. Fortunately, the Security Chief and Scotty’s men were doing an excellent job and no one was allowed to wander into any area they should not have.

But!!

“Oh why did we do this!” Jim moaned.

“Because you love me?” Spock suggested.

“Yes, but there must be easier ways. And why do media people ask such inane bloody questions? I am not doing any more interviews with those idiots. Full stop!”

“I do admit I feel uneasy concerning the media. But I believe it is all to do with the promotion of the Federation Interspecies programme.”

“I am not a mere ‘species’ I am a person. So are you, my lovely, lovely T’hy’la. They make it sound like we’re specimens in a jar.”

“I am sure they do not intend it to be like that, Jim.”

He sighed, “No, I guess…”

The intercom buzzed, making Jim jump, such were his nerves.

“Kirk here!”

“Sir, Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda’s shuttle is on final approach to the main hanger and ready to board. You wanted to know.”

“Thanks, Jamie. Honour guard in attendance please. I’ll be down ASAP.” He turned to Spock.

“You coming?”

“Of course.”

Sarek and Amanda were just descending from the shuttle when Kirk and Spock arrived there and were both greeted formally. The Honour Guard had formed up either side of the doorway, at full attention.

“Ambassador Sarek, Lady Amanda, you are most welcome aboard the Federation Starship ‘Enterprise’. Please follow us to your accommodations.”

“Thank you, Captain. My wife and I are honoured to be aboard.”

There was nothing else to say. Again, they were surrounded by eyes and ears, so family and other personal greetings were not appropriate. But in the privacy of the elevator, away from prying eyes, Jim could not resist giving Amanda a hug and greeting Sarek with a Vulcan salute. Spock, who had been silent until now, touched his Mother gently on the cheek, and then saluted his father, touching his fingers over the chest.

“I am honoured to greet you, my esteemed parents, on this very special occasion.”

“We could not be more delighted, Spock, our beloved son.” Amanda said, smiling happily. “Believe me, this is one of the happiest time of my life.” Then she turned to Sarek, a twinkle in her eyes. “The other time was my marriage to my lovely T’hy’la, Sarek. I am now the happiest woman in the Universe!”

“Please Amanda, restrain yourself.” chided Sarek. Amanda lifted up her chin in a defiant gesture.

“I will not. If I want to be emotional, I will. And I do, so I will. So there!”

It was a relief when the elevator doors opened with a swish, preventing yet another marital tiff, Jim thought, with amusement that these two enjoyed these little sparring incidents. And he also knew that they loved each other deeply.

The Guest Quarters accommodation was the best on offer on the ‘Enterprise’, consisting of a comfortable and spacious suite: a sitting room, a head with both sonic and aqua showers and a large bedroom. Jim noted that the bedroom had two large single beds.

‘Ah, well,’ he thought, ‘they can always push them together.’

The Quartermaster had provided an idomput and a meditation stone, which Sarek approved with a nod.

“Ambassador, Lady Amanda, we will leave you to settle in now,” Jim told them. “Your luggage will be here shortly.”

“Jim, you don’t have to be so formal.” Amanda chided.

Before Kirk could respond, the door intercom sounded. “Come.”

The door opened and an unusually timid Janice Rand entered, moving to stand just inside the room.

“Ambassador, Lady Amanda, may I introduce Ensign Rand, who has been assigned to you for the duration of your stay aboard. Anything you require, including refreshments – anything, Ensign Rand will be at your service.”

“Oh, it’s Janice.” Amanda said moving towards the young woman, laying a hand gently on the young woman’s arm. “I remember you from our previous time aboard. Thank you for your assistance, my dear. I’m sure we will not be running you off your feet.”

Janice gave a small smile, and then Jim almost heard her sigh of relief when she was dismissed. He looked up at Sarek.

“Doctor McCoy is anxious to know whether you have brought the rings, sir?”

“They are both safe, Jim. I will give them to Leonard before the ceremony.”

“Can I see them?”

“No! Definitely not!” Amanda almost hissed.

“Well, Spock has!” he protested, but Spock laid a hand on his shoulder.

“No. I have not. Father made the selection without me. And Mother says it would be…er…bad luck…to see the ring before it is on the finger. Quite why this should be so, I am not sure.”

“Your Mother is correct, of course.” Jim said, not wanting another family spat.

“Sarek, the cake! I must go to see if it has survived the journey from Vulcan!”

“I can assure it has! Jim, Spock, you have no idea what I have had to endure in the making of this cake for days on end. At least now, it is a sight to behold!”

“I suppose I could go and see it has arrived for you.” Kirk offered.

“Oh no, you must not!” Amanda said adamantly.

“Bad luck?” Jim queried.

Amanda nodded.

Jim turned to the com. “Kirk to Scott.”

“Scotty here, Captain.”

“Scotty, are you with the items brought aboard with the Ambassador and Lady Amanda?”

“Aye, sir. Seeing to their stowage now.”

“Could you please check out the cake from Lady Amanda?”

“Will do, sir.” There was a slight pause, then. “Oh, yes. I see it! Jim, ‘tis a grand item!”

“And fully intact?”

“Aye, sir. Full and gorgeous.”

“Thanks, Scotty. Guard it with your life! Kirk out.” He turned back to Amanda. “There, all present and correct! I’ll leave you in peace now. Spock, why not stay awhile with your parents.”

“I will, for a time.”

Jim departed, still smiling. ‘Oh how that family made him feel so wonderful!’

The ship was truly buzzing now! Techs were busy putting up big screens everywhere, cameras being aligned. Caters, both Vulcan and Terrans doing whatever caterers did, and ‘things’ God knows what – were happening in all three rec-rooms. It was beginning to feel like it was not his Starship anymore.

As he got close to his own quarters, he bumped into Kevin Riley.

“Sir, I’m so honoured to be your D.J. I won’t let you down.”

“No head banging stuff, Kevin!” Kirk warned.

“Oh no, sir! Mostly just romantic and popular stuff. Er…I know this sound so cheeky, but can Mr Spock dance? Waltz?”

Jim laughed, “I really don’t know! I’ll find out. If he can’t, I guess I’ll have to give him a few swift lessons! Oh, and Kevin – I know it’s some time ago, but who did win the cup final? Unfortunately, I was …er…called away.”

Kevin grinned. “Yes, sir. I remember. Foxes versus ManU. Of course, it was the best! Foxes, of course! Three-one to the Foxes. Good, eh?”

“Oh yes, wonderful.” Jim agreed, although he did not know what he was agreeing to.

“Oh and Sir, Uhura told me about the special feature you asked for. Well. I have all the details – ready to go!”

“Thanks, Kevin. But not a word! It’s a secret.”

“Mum’s the word, Sir!” Kevin assured him, with a grin. Then Jim gave a wave of ‘goodbye’ and finally made it to his quarters, flopping down onto his bed, waiting for Spock.

Kirk was roused from his nap when Spock arrived, a couple of hours later.

“Hi, Spock. Mom and Pop okay?”

Spock’s brows tightened at the terms but he responded. “Perfectly alright, Jim. I have just come in to say goodnight.”

“Eh...Come here, the bed is all warm and snuggly for you!”

“No, Jim.”

“You leaving me even before the nuptials?”

“Jim, it is our last night before…Well, to sleep together tonight, Mother has said it would be…”

“Bad luck?” Kirk offered with a sigh.

“So it used to be said.”

“Bad luck is illogical, my love!”

“But why chance it, Jim!” Spock finally reached down to kiss Jim on the lips and tenderly touched him over his heart with the Vulcan salute. “Goodnight, T’hy’la. Until tomorrow.”

Turning, Spock left for his own quarters, leaving Jim to turn over on his lonely bed.

 

“Wakey, wakey, James T!”

Still sleepy, he opened one eye to see McCoy hovering over him with an enormous mug of steaming coffee in his hand. Strangely, he was wearing blue and white stripy pyjamas and a towelling bath-robe.

“How the hell did you get in, Bones! The privacy lock was on!”

McCoy dangled a comp-key in front of him. “Medi-override! I’m a doctor, so I can. And I’m your best man, so I’m allowed. Get the hell up, Jim! It’s your wedding day!”

He sat up, yawning. McCoy gave him the coffee. “Drink up, lover boy. It’ll wake you up. Then you can get showered, get shaved and get dressed into all your finery.”

“Bully!”

“Well, that’s what a Best Man is for!” He took a peek beneath the dishevelled sheets. “No Spock?”

“No. Apparently, it would be bad luck.”

“Ah, I see.” Bones said with amusement twinkling in his blue eyes.

“Have you got the rings?” Kirk queried as he sat up and took the mug held out to him.

“Yep, all in order.”

“Somewhere to put them? And not where you suggested?”

“No. It would be a bit difficult to extract them at the right moment, wouldn’t it now??? But I have another secret place.”  
The both laughed. Jim drank down the coffee. 

“Will you require breakfast?” questioned the ‘Best Man’, concerned to ensure all his duties were performed adequately.

Jim pulled a face, realising he had a churning stomach. “No thanks. I might throw up if I ate a thing!”

“Don’t you dare! Now, I’ll be off to get into my finery! I sure ‘aint going to your wedding in my jimjams. Can you shower on your own, or do you need a ‘Best man’ for that?”

“No, now bugger off, Best Man!”

“Charmed, I’m sure! Toodle-oo. See you later!”

With a wave of his hand, McCoy exited.

Kirk did get up then and after Bones’s coffee shot and an invigorating sonic shower; he began to feel much brighter, although his stomach felt it was tied up in knots.

The clan toga, which had been given to him with so much love by Sarek and Amanda was still as beautiful as when he first seen it, nestling in its box. And now, when he put it on, he felt so proud to wear it on this, his special, special day. And the IDIC, given to him with love by his dearest T’hy’la.

‘I am a lucky, lucky guy,’ he thought, giving the last touches and tweaking to his attire, to be so loved by so many wonderful people. 

The time of the ceremony was fast approaching, when a cheerful knock came on his door. He waved it open and in come McCoy, resplendently dressed in his Full Dress uniform, with his IDIC round his neck – also given with love from Kirk and Spock. His special ‘trilogy’ Kirk thought.

“Wow!” breathed McCoy.

“Wow!” breathed Jim.

“’Aint we both just gorgeous!” McCoy quipped.

“Will I do?” Jim asked nervously.

“Jim, you’ll more than just do! I’d hug you, but I don’t want to disturb your loveliness.”

“Same here, Bones. So we’ll forget the group hug then?”

“And now, fair Hippolyta, your wedded hour draws on a pace!” McCoy misquoted, offering his arm.

“Shakespeare! A Midsummer Night’s dream?”

“Sort of. Not quite an accurate quote, but I guess it fits.”

First Spock, now McCoy, quoting – or misquoting – Shakespeare! Two of the most improbably people in the universe!

Grinning, he linked his arms with McCoy.

“Lead on, McDuff!” he ordered, and his friend led him out into the corridor, towards his wedding…..


	24. The Wedding Feast

The corridors of the Starship were unusually quiet and they passed no-one.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Kirk queried.

“Where do you think? Either squashed into the main event, or glued to a big screen.”

“Who is minding the store?”

“Quit worrying, Jim! Everything is tickety boo and well in order.”

They arrived at the turbolift and summoned a lift.

“I feel dizzy and sick.”

“No you don’t! It’s just a panic attack. Look, you’re over breathing, making yourself dizzy. Just calm down. Now take some slow, deep breaths…that’s okay…panic over now?”

Gradually, Kirk felt calmer, with McCoy’s gentle administrations. A final slow intake of breath, and he returned to normal.

“Okay, bones. Sorry about that. Let’s go now, huh?”

“That’s my boy!” McCoy said, giving him a quick reassuring hug. “Ever onward eh?”

The lift arrived and they stepped in, twisted the lift handle and requested the appropriate deck. At the destination, the doors swished open and together, they stepped out. The crew immediately stood to attention. A sea of gold, red and blue, in their Dress Uniforms. Jim gazed proudly at this rainbow of colour. His crew! He acknowledged their salutes with his own, then waved a hand and commanded them to sit.

“Where’s Spock?” Jim whispered as they reached the podium.

“Quit worrying, Jim. Just shut up and take your place!”

He caught sight of Admiral Jackson, standing off to one side. //How the hell did he get here?//

With McCoy by his left side, the doctor’s comforting hand on his arm, he stepped up onto the podium to the sound of the background music provided by Kevin Riley.

Briefly, silenced descended. Then came a complete change of mood as the music upped the sound-level and Jim recognised the traditional ‘wedding march.’

Spock flanked on each side by his parents, at last entered. Again, the crew stood immediately to attention. All three of them looked stunning, and Jim could hear a ripple of gasps run through the audience. Both Spock and Sarek were dressed in their clan togas, the lights in the room catching the shimmer of gold and silver thread running through the fabric.

Amanda looked beautiful in her own female version of the clan toga, her long hair falling over her shoulders and a gossamer scarf draped around her head.

Spock joined Kirk, to stand at his right side on the podium, silently acknowledging him with the Vulcan salute and pressing his fingers over the heart. Sarek and Amanda stepped onto the podium and Sarek, ever solicitous for her, gently assisting her to sit on the chair which had been provided for her. Bending, he gave her a kiss on her hand, and then stepped to the centre of the podium. It was now Sarek’s turn to wave the command to sit. Addressing the gathered multitude, he began.

“Honoured Guests, Crew of the Federation Starship Enterprise, we have gathered here today for the legal co-joining of – of our beloved son, Spock and our beloved adopted son,” Sarek flicked a glance at Jim. “James Kirk.”

Jim felt a frisson pass through the assembly, which he tried to ignore. Sarek continued, possibly fully aware of the surprise his statement had caused.

“As Ambassador of the Vulcan High Commission, and of the Federation, I have the power invested in me to conduct the aforesaid co-joining of the lasting, lifetime civil partnership.”

Sarek turned his gaze to the two men standing in front of him.

“Please step forward.”

Hand in hand, they stepped forward. Sarek took the left hands of both men, placing one over the other but still cradling them in his own. He looked gravely into the eyes of each man in turn.

“James Kirk of Earth, do you accept this civil partnership with Spock of the planet Vulcan?”

“With all my heart, I accept.”

“Spock of Vulcan, do you accept this civil partnership with James Kirk of Earth?”

“With all my heart, I accept.”

“Doctor McCoy, please step forward.”

Bones’s stepped forward to stand at Kirk’s left shoulder.

“Have you the rings?”

“I do sir.”

Both rings were produced, lying in McCoy’s palm, the heavy gold shimmering in the lights of the room. Sarek took the first from his outstretched hand and turned to Kirk.

“James, take this ring and place it onto Spock’s finger. This represents the circle, never to be broken.”

Jim took the ring, easing it onto the third finger of Spock’s left hand.

“Spock, how do I love thee? I will count the ways.” Lifting Spock’s hand, he kissed the ring finger. “We are united, never to be parted.”

Sarek took the second ring from McCoy and proffered it to his son. Jim’s left hand was offered to Spock, who took it and placed the ring onto Jim’s finger.

“We are the stuff that dreams are made of.” Spock quoted from the Tempest.” Lifting Jim’s hand, he kissed it in turn. “We are united, never to be parted.”

Sarek bowed formally to them both.

“James Kirk, Spock of Vulcan, you are now legally united in lasting union. You may now…kiss…each other.”

To the applause ringing in their ears, they gave each other a crushing hug, kissing on the lips, while in the background; Kevin Riley played the ‘old, old song of triumph’ by Leonard Cohen.

“Hallelujah…Hallelujah…Hallelujah”

As the haunting lyrics faded, they parted and Uhura stepped up onto the podium to announce the ‘wedding feasts’ which were laid out in each of the Rec-rooms and the rear of this main room. Everyone was invited and could visit any of the rooms. There would be entertainment in the main room once Scotty’s ‘laddies’ had transformed the room into a ballroom, providing seating and tables for the assembly.

Jim and Spock stepped back but remained hand and hand, McCoy shadowing them. Taking on the self-appointed task and responsibility of fending off any of the over-enthusiastic media crews who had rushed forward. 

“I’ll feel better when these…snakes… clear off!” he grumbled as another one tried to get in too close, without success. “Is Mom and Pop okay?” he queried, over his shoulder, concernedly nodding towards where Amanda, who was still seated, looked upset. The two men hurried over to her, concerned.

Amanda was crying softly and Jim bent down, taking her hand. “Why the tears?” he asked.

“Because…because…I am so happy!”

“Amanda, how can you weep when you are happy?” Sarek asked gently, completely missing the point. 

Jim leaned down, embracing her briefly. Spock knelt down, taking her hand gently in his.

“Maman,” he said, using his childhood name. “Maman, Jim and I are happy too. Please don’t cry, you will make us feel so sad.”

Spock gently kissed her damp cheek, which was Amanda needed. She looked up, her eyes still shining with unshed tears. She stood and hugged her son, and then Jim, enclosing them in her warm arms.

“I love you all, so much. My family. I’m sorry for being so silly! Come now, my dear, dear family. We must cut the cake!”

“Aah! The cake!” Sarek rolled his eyes heavenward. “Come all. You must feast your eyes upon this wondrous confection! Amanda…” He offered her his arm.

There was indeed a sight to behold the ‘feast’ spread out before them, courtesy of the Starfleet Catering Corps and Sarek’s Clan. Food for every taste and nature, which people were attacking with enthusiasm.

At the centre of it all was the wondrous sight! A three tiered massive cake, white sugar-iced, with the letters of J&S piped onto each layer in pale gold and blue icing.

“Oh wow!” Jim breathed. “That is some cake!”

“Oh, how I have suffered in the making of it!” Sarek said theatrically, rolling his eyes heavenward. Amanda gave him a friendly tap on his arm.

“Well, now Husband, once our Sons have cut the first slices, you may partake of your terrible suffering!”

“Maman, it is wonderful.” Spock praised. “Do we have to cut into it, it will spoil its beauty.”

“Cut it, you and Jim will certainly do! It is tradition!”

As the cake was dismantled tier by tier, Amanda offered them an enormous cake knife. Now the ever present media turned the slicing of the cake into a ritual. Jim and Spock both placed their left hands on the hilt of the knife, their gold wedding bands prominent on their fingers.

To the flashing of many photo-shots popping away, they finally pressed the knife downwards, slicing through the top most tier of cake, to the cheers of those watching.

Fortunately, an Ensign was on hand to continue the slicing of the cake, serving a first slice to Jim and Spock, then his parents and McCoy, before those already waiting in line.

“This is lovely,” Jim told Amanda, as he bit into his slice. “Must have taken you ages to do this!”

“Aeons!” Sarek agreed, munching happily away. “And all the time, I was barred from the kitchen.”

Jim glanced at Spock, who was carefully picking off the white icing. “Spock, what are you doing?”

“Much too sweet. So much sugar acts similar to chocolate on Vulcans, and I do not want to be intoxicated or inebriated.”

“Sarek is eating his!” Kirk pointed out, only to see Amanda removing the remaining icing from Sarek’s portion. 

Jim laughed when he detected the frown of disapproval on Sarek’s face over his wife’s actions. Amanda, seeing him laughing, winked at him and her mouth giving a ‘shush’ warning.

“Come, my husband, let us circulate.”

They moved off and left the two men by the groaning tables of food.

“Spock, we must mingle.”

“Mingle?” Spock queried, sugar icing piled neatly on his plate and the last few crumbs of remaining sponge cake being delicately wiped from his mouth.

“Yes – you know – mingle with our guests.” He turned, almost bumping into Admiral Jackson.

“Well well Kirk! Congratulations and all that jazz!”

Jim ground his teeth together in annoyance. “Yes, sir,” he managed to spit out, watching as Spock moved to follow his parents and ‘mingle’.

“Adopted son, eh?”

“By name only, sir.”

“Don’t you realise Kirk, what a mega-rich family you’ve just wormed your way into?”

Jim frowned. He already disliked this conversation. “It has never been discussed, and never will. Wealth has never been an issue and it never will be.”

Jackson surveyed him through narrowed eyes. “What is that...fol-de-rol…you are wearing instead of your Full Dress?”

“This is my Vulcan clan toga, sir.”

“Toga, eh? Fancy yourself as a Roman?”

“No, sir.” He answered shortly, his hands curled into fists. He tried to turn away, but Jackson had not finished with his vitriol.

“Like doing it with a green cock, eh? Who’d have thought?” He indicated Amanda across the room. “Must be quite something these Vulcans have.” His eyes flicking between Sarek and Spock, who were both fortunately too far away for even Vulcan ears.

Kirk was so furious; he was a second away from punching a senior officer and hang the consequences. Luckily he caught sight of this Chief Security Office, Nomura, and signalled him over.

“Commander, please escort Admiral Jackson to the transporter room. He is leaving!”

“Sir?”

“Admiral Jackson was not personally invited to this occasion. As such, he is gate-crashing.” He turned to Jackson. “Either you go quietly, or you go escorted by Security. This incident will be reported, make no mistake about that!”

“I’ll report you for this, Kirk!” Jackson was red-faced with anger.

Then, to his relief, Jackson moved away, but not before giving Jim a two-fingered salute. Shrugging off Nomura’s hand on his arm, he left the room, closely followed by the Chief of Security.

McCoy appeared through the people seconds later and moved to Kirk’s side. “What’s up Jim? You look as white as a sheet?”

He gave McCoy the gist of what had happened. “If Spock had over-heard, I think he would’ve nerve pinched him into oblivion!”

“Well, you did the right thing, Jim. Got rid of him, good riddance I say! I hope Nomura transports him into outer-space, without a helmet!”

The both laughed, easing the tension, and turned to see Scotty resplendent in his native costume of tartan kilt coming towards them.

“Hey, you look the business!” McCoy said. “Had any requests to peek under that kilt, eh?”

“Aye, too many!”

“And so…” McCoy said mischievously. “Can me and Jim have first dibs, eh?”

Scotty grinned. “Sure ye can!” Quick as a flash, he lifted a corner of his kilt…to reveal black briefs.

“You cheated, Scotty!” McCoy moaned, as Jim laughed.

“Aye. Getting old. Need me support these days!”

“Don’t we all!” McCoy agreed.

“Speak for yourselves!” Kirk boasted with a grin.

“I came to announce that the dance-floor is now all correct and ready for action, sir!” Scotty saluted, gave a cheeky flip of his kilt and disappeared back into the crowd.

Kirk turned to find Spock and joining him, as they strolled behind Sarek and Amanda.

“What was the disturbance with Admiral Jackson?” Spock asked.

‘Trust him to notice’ Kirk thought. “Oh nothing much.” He dismissed the subject as they moved towards the dance floor. Chairs and occasional tables were arranged around the edge. The podium now at the front, with Kevin Riley and his music equipment, together with a solitary microphone.

“Jim, you looked ready to explode. And Jackson was escorted away!”

“He grossly insulted us and your parents,” Kirk conceded. “And I will not have that on my ship! I dealt with it. Let that be an end to it!” He beckoned to Sarek and Amanda. “Let’s bag four chairs and a table, before the hordes descend.”

“But Jim…” Spock persisted.

“Unless you want our very first domestic, my love, read-my-lips, Shut up as McCoy would say!”

Spock shut up! All four of them sat, Sarek looked a bit out of sorts. Jim looked at Amanda, who laughed.

“Too much sugary stuff,” she explained.

“Would you like a drink?” Jim asked. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Black tea, please.” Sarek asked. “No sugar!”

Jim strode over to the replicator, punched in the command “tea, black, no sugar.” And took it back. Sarek drank it back in two gulps, despite the heat of it. Shortly after, he looked back to normal and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Uhura appeared and climbed onto the podium, to announce the dancing – and other entertainment was about to begin.

“Captain Kirk, Commander Spock…as the happy couple, the traditional first waltz is yours! Everyone else may join in after the first few bars, of course.”

Kirk stood up, bowed and extended a hand to Spock. “My love, will you dance with me?”

“Of course, T’hy’la.”

“CAN you dance?” Kirk responded, more than a little surprised.

“Of course.”

Taking Kirk’s hand, Spock led him onto the dance floor as the first strands of music began. Clasped together, they waltzed, they spun, they danced, and they whirled.

Of course Spock could dance. Was there nothing he could not do?

“I do love you, Spock.”

“And I love thee.”

Sarek and Amanda had now taken to the floor and they were course also good dancers. At least Sarek’s slight indisposition had worn off, thanks to the black tea. Gradually, the floor filled with others and eventually the waltz finished.

As the music faded, they all elected to sit down. An Ensign hovered, offering them iced drinks, which they all took gratefully.

Then, Kevin stood out on the podium, microphone in hand, a cheeky-chappy grin on his face.

“Honoured guests, Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, I’m awfully sorry about the following. I promised the lovely Uhura that I would not do this, but…how can I not with you all gathered together?”

“OH no!” Jim groaned, “I know what’s coming!”

“Honoured guests,” continued Kevin, “I give you…”

“Kathleen!” chorused the audience who knew of the connotations and uttered a collective groan.

“Kathleen” Kevin delivered and he began to sing. He did have an excellent voice, not at all like the version the crew remembered all too well. But just a sad song that echoed plaintively through the room. As the notes finally died away, Kevin received his bow to cheers and whistles in appreciation.

Laughing, Jim turned to Amanda and Sarek, meaning to explain the significance of the song and its effects on the crew members. But Amanda was whipping away a tear, as Sarek laid a gentle hand on hers.

“Why now?” Sarek asked gently.

“It reminds me of how home-sick I was when we were first married.”

“I did try to allay your fears. I even provided you with a terran garden, at danger to both my life and limbs!”

“And it worked, my love!”

They briefly touched paired fingers. “Come my wife, we are needed.”

They rose, climbing onto the podium. Only they, Jim, Uhura and Riley knew what was now happening.

“What is happening?” Spock asked.

“Wait and see.” Jim said mysteriously, grinning.

Uhura stood at the microphone again. “Honoured Guests. The following song most of you will know. You are all invited to join in….Ambassador Sarek and the Lady Amanda!”

There was sporadic applause, no-one knowing what would happen. Uhura cued Kevin and the backing music began…then Sarek and Amanda, much to the amazement of their audience began to sing!

“When I am down, and my soul of so weary  
When troubles come and my heart burdened be  
Then I am still, and wait here in the silence  
Until you come and sit awhile with me…”

Sarek, ever the diplomatic performer, raised his arms, waving for the audience to join in.

“You raise me up and I can stand on mountains..  
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas  
I am strong when I am on your shoulders  
You raise me up to more than I can be…”

The chorus went on, until Sarek lowered his arms, bringing the song finally to a reluctant close and to thunderous applause. Sarek and Amanda gave brief acknowledgements of the praise and then returned to their seats. The dance floor filled again with happy revellers, as Kevin played popular track after track. The group enjoyed watching the dancers and talking of general things.

More non-alcoholic drinks were brought and they all took one gratefully. McCoy arrived, sinking into the one remaining chair. His face red and sweaty from his dancing exertions.

“I’ve danced myself into the ground with so many lovely girls!” he complained. 

“Then sit down and rest.” Spock remarked reasonably, but Bones shook his head.

“I’m having the time of my life! But, I am missing just one lovely lady from my list!”

“Probably gone into hiding, Bones. “Jim quipped, laughing.

“Oh no! Not a chance to hide from this..er..handsome, Southern Gentleman. Besides, she’s sitting right next to me. Amanda?”

He stood up, pulled his uniform into shape and extended his hand. “Lady Amanda, would you please dance with me?”

Amanda laughed kindly at McCoy’s theatricals. Even Sarek showed a small smile. “I will be happy to loan you my beautiful wife if she agrees, on condition that you return her to me.”

Amanda, still laughing, stood up and placed her arm through McCoy’s. “Doctor, I thought you would never ask! I would be honoured to dance with you!”

As the new dance music filled the room, McCoy and Amanda whirled away to their date on the dance floor.

Spock stood up. “I must be excused for the moment.” He announced and walked away.

Jim looked at Sarek, the light of devilment in his eyes.

“Sir…?”

“Please do not call me sir, Jim. You are now family.”

“Then…Sarek?”

“That is my name.”

“Sarek, I don’t suppose that you would dance with me?”

Sarek, his sense of humour bubbling up, stood up and held out his arm. “Why not? Let us dance, James Tiberius Kirk!”

This was a surreal experience, dancing with the supreme Vulcan Ambassador of the Federation and his Father in law? Who would have even dreamt this so many years ago when they had first met? Sarek was a superb dancer, never missing a step, and they were both aware of photo-shots popping away.

As the music died away, they sat down again. Spock, having returned, was staring open-mouthed at his father.

“Close your mouth, Spock. I am sure your Mother would advise it is most rude.” Sarek chided amusedly.

“It is so unlike you, father!”

Sarek sipped his juice. “Is it?” he asked whimsically. “There is still so much you do not know, but then you are yet so young!”

Amanda and McCoy returned. McCoy bowed to her and then plopped back into his chair.

“Enjoy your dance, Sarek?” Amanda asked, obviously amused.

“It was indeed superb. And you?”

“The doctor is indeed a true Southern Gentleman. I enjoyed every step.”

“At least he brought you back to me.”

Uhura stepped up on the podium. “We are almost through, and at the end of these wonderful celebrations…”

There were collective groans of disappointment

“We have to end it sometime. But first…please show your appreciation for Ambassador Sarek…”

Sarek stood up, adjusting his clan toga to his fastidious satisfaction, and then moved to stand on the podium next to Uhura, giving her a theatrical bow.

“He does secretly love performing,” Jim remarked to Amanda. 

She smiled, her love shining in her eyes. “It is an important part of his job. It’s what he does often, standing before hundreds of delegates, speaking to them in that lovely voice of his.”

They watched Sarek give his cue to Kevin and then, the music swelled into the room.

Puccini’s opera “Turindot”

And the aria…

“Nessum Dorma…”

As Sarek ended, everyone rose to their feet in a standing ovation; applauding, shouting for more – and Sarek, obviously loving the acclamations, playing to the audience.

Eventually, he waved for them to sit.

“Once more chorus!” he promised, signalling to Kevin for his cue.

And again, ‘Nessum Dorma’ swelled into the room in unbelievable, beautiful sound, which at the end received another standing ovation.

Then, to the amazement of just about everyone – except, perhaps Kevin, he beckoned to Amanda to join him.

“Come, T’hy’la,” he said quietly. Almost shyly, Amanda obeyed, stepping uncertainly onto the podium to stand beside him.

“This is for she, who is my wife – Amanda.”

And Sarek began to sing…

“And I will always love you…”

He rocked her to the music, his arms holding her close, singing as if only to Amanda, who had tears streaming down her face.

There was now barely a dry eye in the entire Starship. Except Spock.

“I cannot believe my father!”

“Spock, its love!”

“But…” They all watched as the song ended and Sarek kissed Amanda.

“But…” Spock continued. “He is…so overt! So open!”

Jim smiled, “Like this?”

Drawing Spock into his arms, Kirk kissed him hard, not allowing him out of the clinch until he managed to wriggle free, fully aware of the applause and whistles of approval the action had caused. Jim just bowed, Spock blushed green.

Amanda and Sarek re-joined the group, Amanda still dabbing away her tears.

“Sarek, why did you not warn me you were going to that?”

“That is what a surprise is for. If you knew in advance, it would not be one. And I did mean every word. I will always love you.”

After the excitement had died down, Uhura announced that the ‘celebrations’ were now over. She stepped over to their table.

“Oh Captain Sir, you told me ‘Nessum Dorma’ and ‘Raise me up’ would go down a storm. It sure was!” she turned to Sarek and Amanda. “Ambassador, you have a wonderful voice, and you too, Lady Amanda.”

Amanda gave her a hug. “Thank you, Uhura. And you did an excellent job.”

“Captain, Mr Spock, congratulations. I really, really, cannot think of a more lovely, lovely couple.”

Jim kissed her cheek. Spock solemnly shook her hand. Kevin appeared, no longer the DJ and shook everyone’s hands in turn.

“You are an excellent DJ.” Sarek praised, and Kevin’s face broke into another ‘cheeky-chappy’ grin.

“Thank you, Sir! I really enjoyed this evening. Er…sorry about ‘Kathleen’, Captain!”

“Apology accepted,” Jim told him, laughing.

And then, they were alone, their little ‘family’ group that included McCoy. Sarek turned to them all. 

“We must retire. But first, we have something of importance. Jim, Spock, perhaps you could accompany us to our quarters? And Dr McCoy, too?”

Sarek and Amanda led the small group out of the fast emptying room, as crew drifted back to their own quarters, or the other small rec-rooms, where partying might still be continuing. Jim and Spock were walking hand in hand, Sarek and Amanda with their arms linked, whilst McCoy ambled along beside them.

Jim held out his free hand. “Bones, join us?” he invited, and the doctor clasped his hand.

It was slow going. Everyone they met, regardless of rank, wanted to wish their most senior officers well, or compliment Sarek and Amanda upon their singing.

Eventually, they made it to the Executive Quarters. Jim caught a glimpse of the bedroom and smiled to himself,

So, they had pushed the two beds together after all !

Surprise, surprise…

Not!

Sarek indicated two important documents, which were spread out on the small desk.

“To validate your union into Civil Partnership, it is necessary to sign your affirmation.” He told them. “And Doctor McCoy must sign as a witness.”

“Sort of ‘signing the register’ ceremony I guess,” Jim said.

Sarek nodded. “Indeed, once formally registered into the data bank, it will then become official and legally entered into both Federation and Starfleet records. I have already placed my own signature to the documents to affirm that I was the official registrar. Jim…Spock…”

He offered a pen. A real one, not just a comp-stylus. They both then signed the proverbial dotted lines.

Amanda smiled as Sarek moved the document to one side. “you are now legal partners in Civil Partnership.”

Jim and Spock touched paired fingers together and McCoy put his hands on their shoulders.

“May you both live long and prosper.” Sarek said solemnly, giving one of his theatrical little bows. “The other document,” he continued “is one of a more family nature…”

Here, Sarek turned to Amanda, and drew her into his arms.

“This is where I take my leave,” McCoy said, but Sarek shook his hand.

“Indeed not, Doctor. You are a part of us, and always will be.”

“Thank you, sir. I am honoured.”

“As I have already told Jim, please do not call me ‘sir’. My name is Sarek.”

“Apologies, si…Sarek.”

“None are necessary, Bones,” Sarek assured him warmly. Then he paused, turning to Amanda before continuing. “Following discussion with my wife, my beloved son, Spock and the clan into which I and Spock were born; they have all, without exception and dissention, agreed to our request….that you, James, will legally become our adopted and most beloved son.”

Tears pricked Jim’s eyes. “I really do not deserve this honour, sir.”

“You do,” Sarek said simply. “And we are proud to accept you without questions. You are now irrevocably part of our family. Welcome, James.”

Amanda peeled herself away from her husband to give Jim a crushing hug. Sarek solemnly shook his hand in a terran gesture and then gave him the Vulcan salute, pressing two fingers over his heart.

He looked up at Spock, tears tinging his eyes, stepped forward and lifted him off his feet briefly.

“Spock, if I could sing, I would sing ‘he aint heavy, he’s my brother!’”

Sarek again offer him the pen… “This documents needs to be signed. And then, without question, you are our beloved son.”

Jim took the pen, looked over the document which was written in beautiful flowing Vulcan script on vellum. He pointed to one word that stood out. 

“I do know that this is the name of the clan. But I would not attempt to pronounce it.”

He looked again. “Xtmprsqzntwlb - There are no vowels to make it possible.”

Sarek smiled patiently. “I also have problems occasionally. These days, I speak more in Standard English than my native language. Spock, help your brother!”

Spock enunciated each syllable, followed by Jim – just. He then signed the document, followed by the rest of his ‘family.’

“Jim”, Sarek said, taking the completed document. “Spock informed me there was a problem with Admiral Jackson?”

Jim flicked an angry glance towards Spock. “I told Spock not to mention it!”

“It did seem serious.” Spock objected.

“And I dealt with it! I want no more discussion about it!”

“If there are repercussions, Jim, I too will deal with it. This is not the first time that Admiral Jackson has shown unfortunate disrespect for others, when they do not conform to his own rather narrow minded perspective.”

“Trust me, there will not be. Please Sarek; let that be an end of the matter.”

“So be it.” Sarek agreed.

McCoy waved a hand. “Well, before you embark on a family spat, I really do think I’ll be off now. It’s been a long, beautiful day, and now I’m more than ready for my bed. Goodnight to you all. Jim, Spock, all the happiness to you both.” And with a respectively nod towards the others. “Sarek, Amanda.”

With that, McCoy made his exit. It was a cue for everyone else to leave.

“Spock, we must take our leave now and leave your…our parent’s in peace for the rest of the night!”

“We leave for home tomorrow,” Amanda reminded them. “We will say our final goodbyes then?”

“We will be there to say goodbye,” Jim assured her with a kiss on her cheek. Sarek followed them to the door.

“Enjoy your evening, my sons.”

“Sarek!” came Amanda’s voice, before her husband could say anything else embarrassing. Jim managed to stifle a smirk, especially as Sarek looked so innocent, turning to view his wife’s stern expression in puzzlement, right eyebrow on the rise.

“Good night, Sarek, Amanda,” Kirk said, and urged Spock away by a hand to his back, relieved when the door closed behind them.

“Sarek is unbelievable!” he laughed as they made their way to their own quarters. “In the past few weeks, I have seen a completely different side of him. And he is so very sexy.”

“I cannot say I have every noticed,” Spock said frostily, until Jim laughed again.

“Oh lighten up, my love!” Kirk leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. “Your quarters or mine?”

“Mine, I think.”

It was almost a relief now to enter Spock’s quarters. The first thing they did was to strip off their clan togas and put them carefully away. Then, Jim stripped Spock’s bed to create a love nest for them on the floor.

“Our very own Honeymoon suite, my lovely, lovely Vulcan!”

“Honeymoon? Due to the high sugar content, honey may inebriate…”

“Never mind!” he flopped down onto the makeshift bed, holding out his arms into which Spock came, with a crushing embrace.

“How do I love thee..” Jim quoted softly into the nearest pointed ear.

“Let me count the ways,” Spock responded. “It has been such a wonderful day.”

“And now T’hy’la, it will be even more beautiful, my bondmate, my partner, my brother. Together always, touching and touched…”

“Never parted…”

Feeling the firm erection through Spock’s briefs, Kirk smiled up into the close held face above him. “Aah! He awakens for me!”

“Only for you, T’hy’la. Only for you!”

Unable to wait now, they shrugged out of their remaining clothes, casting them aside, leaving them were they fell. Turning head to toe on the improvised bed, Jim licked the beautiful jade spear, which pulsed in his mouth in its great need. At the same time, Spock was milking the rosy pink penis, which was flushing with blood. With the slow deliberate strokes of the penis, he used his thumb to rim the glans in circles and in rhythm to the wonderful sucking on his own penis. They were now so familiar with each other’s bodies, the actions driving them both to heights of passion.

Unable to take it any longer, Kirk pulled away and turned in Spock’s arms. Pulling him over, so Spock lay across his own body, their legs entwined. The powerful Vulcan arms automatically going to either side of his own heated body, Kirk rested his hands on the narrow hips.

“Take me, please…” he begged, desperate to feel Spock inside him, wanting to give completely. To be joined in the most intimate manner. 

Spock moved to kneel between Jim’s legs, lifting them to allow access and eagerly sought the hidden entrance: rimmed it with a finger, coaxing the reluctant opening. Gradually, the entrance softened and Kirk’s knees relaxed to spread outwards, his breathing rate increasing.

“Relax, T’hy’la,” Spock whispered soothingly, another finger entering the relaxed entrance, stroking the warm soft walls, seeking the special place that would give maximum pleasure to them both. 

Kirk’s eyes closed to concentrate on the sensations that were being created by the hotter than human fingers. His back arching in pleasure, arms flopping outwards, he moaned in pleasure.

Laying down between the spread thighs and kissing the exposed neck, Spock whispered “Let me enter you, T’hy’la.”

“Yesss!” Kirk breathed out, hands moving to rest on the warm back, finger nails gently racking the long hot back.

With an oh-so-gentle thrust, Spock was inside Jim, his arms encircling the human’s shoulders, giving him extra purchase to allow deeper thrusts. Soon the steady thrusts began gaining in exquisite momentum, long and powerful, Spock’s double ridges nudging Jim’s prostrate and sending currents of pleasure throughout their bodies. Eventually, they could take no more.

With a last powerful thrust, they simultaneously both reached climax – the most exotic explosive climax Jim had ever experienced. And Spock too, by the dazed look on his face. They lay for many minutes, too drained to move.

Their erections took time to subside; Jim wished Spock could stay inside him forever, but with a little sucking noise, as if saying ‘farewell’ the jade spear finally slipped out. 

Jim finally manged to find his voice. “O.M.G.!”

“What is wrong, Jim?” Spock asked anxiously, moving back just enough to gaze into his beloved’s flushed face.

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jim replied, an enormous grin and sparkling eyes meeting Spock’s gaze.

“You were evoking a god!” 

Jim hugged him close. “Spock, that was the best, the very best fucking I’ve ever, ever had! I thought I’d surely died and gone to heaven!”

“Fortunately, you did not. I do not know about heaven, Jim, but if it is as glorious as that wonderful moment, I think we joined together in that wondrous place.”

They kissed long and hard, finally parting with reluctance, to lay close held and relaxed in each other’s arms.

“We must rest, Spock. We say goodbye to our parents tomorrow. Then…” he sighed. “We must get my ship back into working order.” Reaching in for a quick kiss, Kirk continued. “But first, I must go for a..”

“Pee?” Spock guessed.

“How did you know?”

“I cannot think how. But you are predictable at these times!”

“Well, let’s go together. Then we can snuggle without any interruptions.”

“Yes,” Spock agreed. “Pee, then snuggle. An excellent idea!”

Together they made it to the head.

“Y’know, when we were young, my brother and I used to hold a competition to see who could pee the furthest.” Jim told Spock with a laugh.

“Why?” innocent Spock.

“Because we could.”

“Oh.” Was Spock’s perplexed response.

“Well, just for fun, let’s try it! You are my brother now, after all!” Taking a few steps back, he pointed the necessary part of his anatomy towards the head. “Cummon! I know it’s silly and childish, but what the hell! Let’s play ‘I can pee further than you!’”

“If you insist, Jim. I never had a friend to play with – especially such games!”

Jim could not wait anymore for Spock’s procrastination. He relieved himself with a thankful sigh. Spock, very reluctantly relieved himself alongside his ‘brother’. His inexperience showing as he hit the seat rather than into the bowl.

“I think I won, my love.” Jim crowed as they washed up. “You must practice more! Come on! Time for our snuggle.”

Spock chose not to point out that the Vulcan urinary system was far more efficient than a human’s and let his companion bask in false glory.

They lay down on their makeshift bed, plumped up by extra pillows. They made themselves comfortable, wriggling down into the covers, arms embracing each other. Still naked, their bodies entwined, their closeness making their love complete. Kirk slipped his fingers into Spock’s left hand – stroking the ring finger.

“I’ve loved today,” he whispered into Spock’s lovely pointy ears. “and our rings, completing the circle. I am the luckiest guy alive.”

Spock returned the warm handclasp. “We are one, Jim. Always and forever.”

“I’m so tired now,” Jim yawned.

“Yes. So am I. Let us sleep now, Jim. We have our future before us.”

“Yeah. Let’s sleep my love.”

Together, they slipped into sleep, lazy thoughts brushing against each other into dreams.

 


	25. Over the rainbow

They awoke as the Starship changed to its ‘day status’.

It was now time to say a reluctant goodbye to Sarek and Amanda. After a shower together, they dressed in their regular duty uniforms.

“Let’s everyone know we are back in business.” Jim told Spock as they set out briskly for the exec-suite, where the door yielded to their presence.

Sarek, again surprisingly, was wearing earth style clothes of blue jeans and a simple dark blue tunic. Amanda wore close fitting pants and a plain tunic in a pale peach. They were still drinking tea, which had been part of their breakfast.

Sarek greeted them with his usual salute and finished drinking his tea.

“I trust you had a good night, my sons?”

“We certainly did,” Jim replied - //and that is all you are getting!// he thought. Sarek looked a bit disappointed at this sparse information but the cheeky devil in Kirk stirred. “And you?” 

“Perfect! Surak was so wise when he wrote that the Vulcan Warrior – which I am in my…our…clan, should always revere his physicality with his chosen one. And I do, indeed…”

“Sarek!” Amanda warned her husband before he could say something embarrassing. He looked ever-so-slightly chastened.

“Jim taught me a childhood game.” Spock blurted out, hoping perhaps to ease the awkward atmosphere.

Unfortunately, it did not.

“Oh?” Sarek asked, intrigued. “What game was that?”

“Who could pee the furthest, with accuracy. I really could not understand the logic, however.”

Amanda, who had been drinking her tea, spluttered in laughter, almost choking herself. Noting that Kirk was now red faced and staring at Spock in horror.

Sarek merely smiled a Surakian smile.

“A real boy’s game!” he declared. “I played a similar game with my childhood friend, Stellan. I always won of course, except for one time. Who won yours, Spock?”

“Jim.”

“Well, you must try harder. Shall I tell you how..”

“Don’t you dare, Sarek!” Amanda cautioned him in a very strict tone.

“You lost one?” Jim asked at the same time, now trying his hardest not to laugh.

“Yes. He cheated of course. Under his clothes, he had attached a device to..”

“Sarek! I am sure that the Embassy shuttle is waiting for us!” Amanda interrupted quickly, before her wayward husband could reveal any more of the tale.

Fifteen minutes later, the ‘family’ group were standing in the shuttle bay. The Embassy shuttle, which Sarek had piloted from Vulcan, now stood ready for their departure.

“I presume, my wife, that you have no objection for me to pilot the shuttle home to Vulcan?” Sarek asked Amanda, with almost what Jim could describe ‘devilment’ in his dark eyes.

“Well you know only too well that I am not a pilot. I can only just about drive that beast of a car of yours!”

“Yes!” Sarek looked inordinately pleased with himself. “Then, I presume there will be no comments as to my piloting skills?”

By now, the Shuttle Bay Officer was trying hard to smother a laugh.

“There will be no comment.” Amanda promised, trying not to laugh herself. She stepped forward to give Jim and Spock one of her crushing hugs.

“Please do not take too long to visit us again, my lovely sons.”

“Whenever we are passing Vulcan, we’ll be there.” Jim assured her, kissing her on her cheek.

“Farewell, Mother,” Spock said gently. “And I do love you.”

She brushed away a tear but she could not have been happier. “I know my dear boy. I have always known.”

Sarek gave Jim and Spock the usual Vulcan salute, pressing his fingers against their hearts. For some unknown reason…emotion…he did not speak. Then, holding out two joined fingers with Amanda, they climbed into the shuttle. Spock and Kirk turned to walk to the sealed observation bay to watch its departure.

Expertly of course, Sarek piloted the shuttle out of the bay. And then they were off into outer space towards Vulcan and their home.

 

It was five days since their marriage, and now the ‘Enterprise’ was back to doing what she did best – and what many considered the boring job of star-charting. At least this duty gave the couple more of a chance to be together when their shifts allowed.

Now, they nestled together on their ‘snuggle bed’ as they watched some of the media footage that had been taken on the day. Sarek singing ‘Nessum Dorma’. Sarek and Amanda singing ‘Raise me up’ and Sarek singing ‘I will always love you.’

“Sarek does seem to feature prominently.” 

“A star performer!” Jim laughed. “Oh! And here is me, dancing with - guess who? Sarek!”

“Why did you do that with Father?” Spock asked, puzzled.

“Because I really did not think he would dance with me. I guess I miscalculated his sense of humour!”

“I never knew he had one.” Spock said sourly.

Jim squeezed his hand, and then saw a tear escape from Spock’s left eye and drip down his cheek. “I missed so much, Jim. Eighteen wasted years too. I would really like to have known Sarek and my Mother as you seem to do. It makes me feel sad. I missed out on so much.”  
Gently Jim kissed away the tear. “We still have time, my love. Please don’t linger on what-might-have-been. Think of all the good things we can do in the future.”

He turned off the screen. “We’ll watch more later. Let’s snuggle.”

As they settled back, Kirk close held in Spock’s arms, his left leg thrown over the others and his head resting in the curve of Spock’s neck.

“There is something else, Jim.”

“Oh, what is that?”

“Bones…Jim, he’s so lonely. I do not believe either of us wants our happiness to exclude him from our lives.”

“He is our friend. He always will be. You know this, my love. So why this sudden concern about McCoy?”

“I know this. But I also think he is stepping back, to leave us alone. And now, he is lonely. Before I met you, I too was in the same position, outside looking in. Especially with you and Gary Mitchell and then you and Bones. So, I know exactly what he is feeling now.”

“But he is such a closed, private man. Hell, not one person knows exactly what happened to his wife and daughter in all those years we’ve known him.”

“I do,” Spock interrupted.

“Oh?” Kirk sat up to look into Spock’s eyes, curious.

“Remember when I was so ill?”

Jim shuddered. “How could I ever forget?”

“I had reached my lowest point.” Spock continued undaunted. “Although I tried to hide my distress from everyone. One day, he came into my room and I was weeping. And…well, that was not all. I had completely lost control. Even – and I am still ashamed to say it – of my bodily functions. I had soiled myself.”

Jim squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, my love. You were so ill.”

“Bones held me in his arms until I could retrain control, had ceased to weep. Then, without comment or disgust, he cleaned me up, changed the bedding and made me comfortable.”

“That’s nothing less than I would expect from Bones. Despite his gruff demeanour, he really does care so much.”

Spock went one. “During that night, when all I really wanted to do was to die and put us all out misery, he came back to me. I was still awake, and he told me he wanted to talk. He sat beside my bed, holding my hand. And then he told me about what happened to his family.

By the end of it all, he was sobbing and I held him in my arms, just as he had done from me!”

“So what did happen to his family?” Jim asked, hating to spoil the special atmosphere.

“No, Jim. It is not my confidence and I will not speak of it. If he ever needs to tell you, he will. But do you know after that night, I began to feel better and better, day after day. In the words of that old song our parents like so much, he had lifted me up. And I believe that I was able to lift him up too.”

“Oh Spock, that is so sad and such a lovely story at the same time! But what can we do to help him?”

“We return to including him in some of the things we do, Jim.” Spock suggested. He flicked his eyes over their ‘snuggle bed’. The bed covers and pillows spread out on the floor where they lay beside each other. “But no, not this. I doubt if Bones would appreciate a ‘snuggle.’ But we must not ignore him.”

“Well today we will definitely have a special time for Bones.” Jim decided. “And while he is here, we can watch the rest of our special day together. Our wedding. He was our Best Man after all.”

“We could do that,” Spock agreed. “And soon, we will be passing over Earth. We will be making our promised pilgrimage to King Richard and we could include him in that.”

“And so we will, my love. You are right, of course. We must not neglect him just because we are in love. We love him too. He is the most important friend in our lives – Entwined somehow. We shall invite him tonight to a togetherness meal. And our pilgrimage to a King.”

That decided, they kissed each other, then Jim hauled himself up out of the tangle of blankets, and held out his arms to Spock.

“Come on, my love! Let’s set up our room and order some of his favourite food. Then go and see our special friend…”

Having remade their bed on the floor to a respectable padded seating area, they placed their food order with Ships services and upon its arrival, set out the warmers picnic style. Settling a bottle of pas-juice wine into an ice bucket to chill to perfection. Then they set out towards McCoy’s quarters, and buzzed at the door. At first, there was no reply.

“Perhaps he’s in sickbay, doing what doctors do,” Jim said, but he tried the buzzer again. “Bones! It’s Jim and Spock. Open the damn door!”

It did open then, and they stood on the threshold, waiting to be invited in.

“Bones?” Jim queried.

“Come in, both of you.” McCoy said at last. He appeared a bit dishevelled. His eyes seemed puffy. Had he been crying? Jim wondered.

“Sorry,” he apologise. “I…I was having a bit of a rest. What can I do for you two?”

“We came to invite you round to our place. A bit of a meal and we’ve got some media stuff from our wedding. We would love you to join us. Our Best Man.”

“Awe…I don’t know. It’s still your honeymoon.”

“Honey?” Spock interrupted. “What has this substance to do with the moon?”

McCoy laughed. He knew Spock was fully aware of the word. “Honeymoon” and what it meant. If there had been any doubt about the word, it would have been one of the first things he would have checked with the ships computer.

“Never mind! Thank you both, but you should be enjoying your time together. I don’t want to be a gooseberry!”

“What is this gooseberry!” Spock asked.

“Didn’t you explain to him, Jim?” McCoy asked. He seemed happier now.

“No, but I will now. A gooseberry,” Kirk began. “But I warn you Bones, of complications!” He turned back to Spock and assumed the posture of a teacher. “A gooseberry is a small round green fruit to be found on a shrub grown in the northern hemisphere on Earth. It is usually quite sour and it has tiny bristles on its skin. It has many uses but is usually something you either love or hate.”

Two tiny frown lines appeared between Spock’s eyebrows. “But what has a small sour green bristly fruit got to do with a honeymoon? And whilst I can see the similarity to McCoy, why wouldn’t our friend want to…”

“Now just a damn minute!” McCoy began, but Jim turned to him and shrugged. “See, I did warn you! Spock, forget it ok? Bones, we really would like you to join us.”

McCoy tiredly seemed to capitulate. His shoulders sagged in defeat. “Okay,” he agreed. “Thanks for the invite. I do appreciate it. When?”

“Now. As good a time as ever.” Jim said relieved. “We’ve ordered a nice meal, so let’s eat before it’s too late.”

They all trooped along the corridor to the Captain’s quarters. When they were all inside, Jim snicked on the ‘privacy’ lock.

“Hope none of your staff has access to your Medi-key” he joked but Bones shook his head.

“Nope. Only I’m authorised to use it.” McCoy assured him, then he eyed the quarters. The food was set out, including the remnants of Amanda’s wedding cake. Then, his eyes settled upon the arabian style seating spread out on the floor. He gazed around for a more suitable chair but could not see one.

“It’s quite comfortable on the floor.” Jim suggest, noting Bones reluctance. “It’s alright, Bones. Your integrity will remain intact. We do love you, but not in the way you might be thinking of right now. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Almost nervously, McCoy sat himself down on some of the cushions, surprised that it really was comfortable. Spock offered him a plate of food and a glass of the delicious wine. Very soon, McCoy felt his depression lift.

//These two// he thought //are such beautiful, kind friends. How I love them so much and I know they love me.//

They ate in companionable silence for many minutes.

“Bones, we’ll soon be over Earth and we’ll be in for some R&R. When we do, I have promised Spock to make a pilgrimage. We would like you to accompany us.”

“A pilgrimage eh? I always believed you were an atheist, Spock.”

“I am. But it is not a religious journey. It is to make my respects to a dead King.”

“Nor, did I guess you were a secret Royalist.”

“This King has been dead for many centuries in your standard Earth years. He died in battle at Bosworth Field and was buried by monks, but the location of his grave was lost over time. His remains were discovered many years later in a council car park, but he is now interred in a Cathedral as befitting a King of England.”

“Oh, and what is this King called?”

“King Richard the Third.”

“Oh, that guy of Shakespeare fame! Ran around the battlefield shouting ‘A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!”

“No,” Spock interrupted “that did not happen. That was Shakespeare’s poetic licence, a play written to please his patron. Who had only achieved their positon of great power because Richard was betrayed and ultimately defeated.”

“Oh,” said McCoy. “And where, exactly, would we be going on this R&R?”

“A place called Lie-cester.”

“I think,” Jim put in. “It’s pronounced Lester.”

“A most interesting part of Middle England, with an ancient history.” Spock supplied hopefully. “There will be much to see. From a Roman forum, ancient churches and buildings from the medieval to 21st Century, in fine preservation.”

“Okay, I get the message.” Bones laughed.

“Would you come with us?” Spock asked earnestly. “We would – like – you too.”

Bones stroked his chin, thinking things through. Then he nodded. “We’ll I’ve not had an R&R on Earth for a long time, and there’s nothing much doing. Leicester*, eh? I’m sure I’ve heard of it but I’m not sure why. But yes, I’ll go with you. And…thanks for inviting me. I do appreciate it.”

That settled, Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He turned on the large viewing screen and they all settled down to watch various recordings of their special day. Jim sat back next to Bones, with Spock on his other side. Their hands loosely joined.

As the scenes passed progressed, Bones asked. “Why did you dance with Sarek?” 

Jim laughed, and responded just as he had to Spock. “Because I could!” he offered. “Why is everyone so surprised about that?”

“Well, Sarek is about the best known guy in the Federation!” bones replied. “And not exactly known for his playful side!”

“Then I’m pleased to show you his other side!” Jim said, hoping not to upset Spock, who still harboured differing views regarding his Father.

The three of them fell silent as they watched the ship’s own recording of their wedding ceremony and the events afterwards – until Sarek was singing ‘Nessum Dorma’ the music swelling out into the wonderful sound.

“Can’t you sing at all, Spock?” Bones asked.

Spock frowned. He disliked being compared to his father’s undoubted accomplishments. “None of you have ever asked me.” He said sourly.

Jim squeezed his hand. “Not a thing you really ask your First Officer and Science Officer, is it my love?” He said, hoping to make Spock feel better. Instead, as jim turned off the viewer, Spock retreated to his own quarters through their shared bathroom.

“What’s up with Spockums?” McCoy asked, and Jim shrugged, worried. However, Spock returned moments later. With a guitar. He returned to sit on the cushions with them.

“Where did you get that from?” Jim asked surprised. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“I keep it covered in its case. It is most precious to me. I would only ever play it on special occasions. This is one such occasion. My Mother gave it to me when I left to join Starfleet. It had been her Grandfathers. My only connection…” There was a small catch in his voice “…to my family.”

“Oh, Spock!” Jim hugged him. 

McCoy rested a hand briefly on the Vulcan’s shoulder. “I am sorry, Spock, if I upset you. I really did not mean to.”

“I know,” Spock said quietly. His fingers stroked lovingly over the guitar strings. Then he took a deep, deep breath.

“This song was a favourite of my mother’s as her Grandfather used to sing it on family occasions. It was mine too.”

And he sang.

“Somewhere Over the Rainbow…Bluebirds fly…”

Yes, Spock could sing! And play the guitar. What other surprises, Jim thought, would he discover in this wonderful, enigmatic Vulcan over the years ahead?

When the song ended, and Spock carefully laid aside his guitar, his hands roaming lovingly over it, Jim hugged him. Bones moved across to him, tears streaming down his face.

”Spock, how wonderful was that!” McCoy gave Spock a crushing hug of his own, and Spock wiped away the tears very gently from the doctor’s cheeks.

“Bones,” he said quietly. “We do love you so much…”

And Jim smiled happily. How, he thought, could anything be any better than this…?

His trilogy….

 

THE END

*McCoy, A.K.A. DeForest Kelly actually did visit Leicester, with his lovely wife Carolyn. They attended a Star Trek Convention in the city and visited many of the historic sites, though it was before Richard III was rediscovered.


End file.
